


Songstress

by Lalaith_Quetzalli



Series: Nightingale [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cameos, F/M, M/M, Magic, Memories, Memories are important, Nightingale becomes a Singer, Odin is bad, Odin is cruel, Odin's Bad Parenting, Post - All X-Men movies, Post - X-Men: The Last Stand (2006), Sif is bad, Song Echo - by Jason Walker, Stolen Memories, The mind forgets but the heart doesn't, Thor loves his brother, X-Men Cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 48,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Quetzalli/pseuds/Lalaith_Quetzalli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe to Nightingale</p><p>She lived, day by day, with a hole in her heart and soul, unable to remember what was meant to exist there, but sure she was missing something. So she sang, she sang for the loss her heart mourned, which her mind couldn't remember. And she would keep on singing, until the day she was whole once again. </p><p>Or </p><p>The one where Odin finds out about Nightingale when she's seventeen and decrees that she's breaking the law by knowing the truth about Loki, therefore those memories should be taken. Nightingale turns to singing to fill the holes inside her and, in the end, neither Odin nor anyone can stop those who're meant to be together. </p><p>Because, with or without memories, no one knows Loki better than his Nightingale...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Loki (how I wish I did...) Avengers, or anything else from the MCU, yadda, yadda, yadda... (even when I forget to write this you know it already, so what's the point? 
> 
> Once again we're in a POV shifting fic. Always assume that the chapter will be in Nightingale's POV (because, at least the intro line always is), after that, if it's someone else's you will find the note in the scene-breaker. If there's no mention of a changed POV that means it remains the same (either the original from Nightingale, or whoever else narrated the previous scene). 
> 
> This was actually one of the first AUs I planned, though it took me this long to plan beyond the basic idea. I hope you'll like it, I know I enjoyed writing it. Suggestion: Listen to both "Echo" by Jason Walker and "My Immortal" by Evanescence, they are both sung by Nightingale in this story, and they will you into the right mind-state for the first chapter.

Songstress

(Alternative Universe to  _Nightingale_ )

_By: Lalaith Quetzalli_

_She lived, day by day, with a hole in her heart and soul, unable to remember what was meant to exist there, but sure she was missing something. So she sang, she sang for the loss her heart mourned, which her mind couldn't remember. And she would keep on singing, until the day she was whole once again._

**Echoes**

There were times when all I could hear was the echo of my own cries...

**xXx 3** **rd** **Person POV xXx**

Thunderous applause echoing through the huge theater announced the end of the second to last song of who was, perhaps, in that moment the most famous English-speaking singer in the world. The girl had truly come out of nowhere. Her first single had stolen the hearts of thousands of people in America and Europe alike, and when her album came out... she was an instant star. And yet, what no one could understand, was her seemingly eternal sadness.

The Songstress they called her, the 'Spell of her Voice' capable of enchanting anyone as surely as if she were using the most powerful magic in the universe.

In the three years since she'd come out to the public many had tried to understand her, none had been able to yet. She was petite, with soft, unblemished, skin the color of strawberries with cream, hazel eyes that always appeared more brown than green, and locks of light-blonde hair she usually kept in low pigtails. Always dressed in the latest designer gowns and attires.

The media claimed she was beautiful, perfect, like a china doll or a princess... the lady with a voice like a choir of angels... they'd tried to use a different description once, she did not like it, even if no one ever knew why.

She was so mysterious, everyone kept trying to know her, to no avail. Singers, musicians, actors, even sportsmen and all other kind of celebrities had vied for her attention at one time or another; yet it was no use, for she was never interested in any of them. Just like she wasn't interested in having famous friends or 'making nice' with whoever happened to have the most power in the place where she traveled to perform.

Whenever she was interviewed she would answer the questions with a soft voice and a light smile, but the expression never reached her eyes, those were always shadowed (with no make-up involved); she hardly ever laughed, and even when she did, just like with her smile, it never reached her eyes. She never offered information on herself, and talked very little about her past; most of it was justified by her being a very private person, and that the cancer she'd suffered from age 5 to 14 made it so many of her memories were blurry.

All in all, she was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. One many had tried, and failed to see through. Some had begun to doubt there was anything to see. And also, some claimed, it was only when she was singing that she came truly alive...

A string of notes began them, and the audience quieted instantly. Everyone knew which song it was, the Songstress always sang it at the end of every concert; it was, simply said, her song:

"Hello, hello  
Anybody out there? Cause I don't hear a sound  
Alone, alone  
I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now...  
I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name  
Like a fool at the top of my lungs  
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright  
But it's never enough..."  
"Cause my echo, echo  
Is the only voice coming back  
Shadow, shadow  
Is the only friend that I have..."

The media and the fans all were right, when she sang was the one moment when she truly seemed alive, when she truly felt alive. And yet, even then, the only emotion that could be read on her body was sadness, the deepest, crippling sadness; as her eyes shone with tears that would never fall. In the end, the song were her tears, her cries and sobs, for all to hear and none to understand.

"Listen, listen  
I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give  
But it isn't, is it?  
You could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head...  
I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name  
Like a fool at the top of my lungs  
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright  
But it's never enough..."  
"Cause my echo, echo  
Is the only voice coming back  
Shadow, shadow  
Is the only friend that I have..."

There was always a moment when she was in the middle of a song, and lost herself in it. And suddenly she was no longer just standing in the middle of the stage, with the mike in her hand... instead she was moving, swaying, at times even twirling around; her voice never wavering, never missing a single note. As if, for those few moments, all that existed were her and that song...

"I don't wanna be an island  
I just wanna feel alive and  
Get to see your face again...  
I don't wanna be island  
I just wanna feel alive and  
Get to see your face again..."  
"But 'til then  
Just my echo, my shadow  
You're my only friend and I'm...  
I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name  
Like a fool at the top of my lungs  
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright  
But it's never enough..."

And then she would stop. Not moving a muscle, as if the world had stopped turning, as if everything had stopped existing... everything but her own voice. Which carried slowly, but surely, towards the end of that melody. And no matter how many times any fan had heard it before, in that moment, it was like the first time. A performance none would ever forget...

"Cause my echo, echo  
Oh my shadow, shadow...  
Hello, hello  
Anybody out there?"

The song came to an end, and for a few seconds nobody moved; it would seem like nobody even breathed. Then the Songstress returned the mike to its stand and, before the audience, she inclined her head down, eyes closed, as if in a sign of respect for some unseen individual; pressed the base of her right palm to her forehead, and then tilted her head back as if trying to look at the sky through the stone roof, while at the same time extending her hand forward, fingers still together, as if signaling for someone...

The gesture took her no more than five seconds. Then, once she was done she curtsied to the crowd (another curious detail about her no one had ever been able to explain, except that she might do it simply do be original and/or call attention to herself). Then she spun around and left the stage, to the roar of applause from everyone in the audience.

No one knew what her gesture meant, it was something she'd never given a reason for, beyond saying that it 'felt right'. It had soon simply become part of her mystery... a mystery some swore she herself did not fully know.

No one tried to stop Songstress as she walked silently through the backstage and to her private dressing room. She stayed there for almost an hour, just sitting before the vanity. Until a woman in her fifties, with blue eyes and short brunette hair, stepped into the room.

"Everyone's gone." She announced, as always. "It's time for us to do the same."

The singer just nodded, reaching with her hand to free her hair, and then she was ready to go.

The two women came out through the front door. Some people still remained outside the theater, mostly waiting by the side-door (the ones usually used by the performers); they were hoping to catch the Songstress on her way out, though they knew no one had ever managed it. In the end the two women, with their dresses covered by dark coats, stepped into the car waiting for them and left, with no one being the wiser.

"Well, that was the last performance here in London." The older woman informed the younger as she looked through the agenda in her cellphone. "Tomorrow we're on a plane for Germany, we have that gala in the House of Art, in Stuttgart... mostly it's a 'greet and meet' event, but there is a chance you might be asked to sing a song at some point..."

The Songstress just nodded half-absently, she was used to such events... they always asked her to sing, it was nothing new.

"After that we have a few weeks free..." The brunette went on as she kept checking. "On May 26th we're on New York for your interview, and the closing of the tour they convinced us to have there. Then Robert wants to talk about a possible new album..."

The younger woman nodded again. She need not say a word, she never did. The agenda was always planned by her manager; the woman was her family and always had the young singer's welfare in mind. So the girl never complained, just went along with the agenda. She got on planes, cars, got dressed in the clothes given to her, attended the events that had been approved, and the theaters; and when necessary she sang. About a second album... they would see.

That was her life; simple, routine... an tiring, endless cycle she couldn't seem to escape.

"Are you alright, Silbhé...?" The brunette, her aunt, asked her quietly right then.

The younger woman just nodded; to which the older just shook her head but did not insist; it's not like it would have made a difference. They both knew Silbhé wasn't alright, she hadn't been for years; and they had no idea of how to change it, because they didn't even know what was wrong.

**xXx Nightingale's POV xXx**

Aunt Kathryn and I arrived to Stuttgart, and later to the House of Art, as planned. She was in a beautiful midnight-blue one-shoulder dress with crystals on a delicate design on a side, it was floor length and had some train; silver high heels and jewelry, as well as a silvery wrap around her shoulders, complimented her attire. I was in black, as was usual for me; my dress was in two pieces, layers: the first was strapless and knee-length, with golden delicate embroidery on the top, snug on my small body; the second was sheer, translucent, like a floor-length, sleeveless dress that was secure around my torso and fell down from there. With that I wore crystal-like heels, my shoulder-length blonde hair half pulled back, except for a fore-bang falling near my left eye. I wore no jewelry other than my mother's gold triquetra earrings.

We were received by the rich museum owner and I let my aunt do the talking. No one reacted to that, it was usual; aside from when I was singing, and direct questions during interviews, I hardly ever spoke. It was like a part of me refused to allow my voice to be heard whenever it wasn't absolutely necessary... I wondered if it was connected to everything else about myself I did not know, everything I couldn't understand...

There was so much about me that simply wasn't normal... and it wasn't just my usual sadness, or my penchant for wearing dark colors; I'd heard people comment on the fact that even when I smiled, it never reached my eyes; and truth was, I simply never felt real happiness, not the kind that would fill my whole body. At times it almost seemed that I couldn't feel a thing... there was a hole inside me, in my heart and soul, that nothing could fill, no matter how hard I tried. Another detail was how some said I only seemed to truly be alive when I sang... it was the truth. There was something about singing that simply felt right, like I could almost fill the holes in me... but it only lasted for as long as the song did, then it was over, and the hole was still there.

For several hours I did nothing except walk this way and that, trying a few of the foods offered, and drinking water, or sometimes juice (no alcohol for me, I simply couldn't stand it). There was a lot of mingling on my aunt's part, and very little on my own (there was a reason she was my manager, in the end). At some point. I began feeling anxious in a way I never had before; like some kind of instinct inside me, that I'd never been aware of before, was telling me something was coming, even if I hadn't the slightest idea what it was exactly, or why...

It was really no surprise when I was asked to sing (anyone could have seen that one coming). My aunt had also warned me to try and sing something other than Echo... as famous as I might be with that song, the gala was supposed to be a fundraiser, and people were more likely to donate if they were happy, and what would make them happier than giving them something no one else had? Like... maybe a song I'd never sang in public before. I hadn't the slightest idea where the idea came from, but once it came to me I simply couldn't let it go; some kind of force was pushing me to do it. So, in the end, I decided to simply go with it.

If Aunt Kathryn was surprised when I announced I would be singing a totally new song, she did not show it. Instead she spun it all to make it so the guests would donate some more to the charity claiming my song as a sort-of reward. I just went with it. After all donations had been made, the owner himself guided me to where the orchestra had been playing during the whole event. I would need the piano for the song I was planning on singing. The guests simply saw it as being part of the new song, there was no pre-recorded track, everything would be live.

I silently sat on the comfortable bench, before the polished grand piano. Closing my eyes briefly to get in the right mood, when I opened them again I couldn't help but turn briefly upwards, to the second-floor balcony that overlooked the main area of the museum, where most of us were: I noticed a man standing there, looking straight at me. He wasn't the only one, of course, but there was something about him that simply seemed to draw all my attention to him: he was tall, with an athletic, slender, build; dressed in a tasteful charcoal suit, raven black hair that barely brushed his shoulders, a green scarf wound around his neck and a slim and strange-looking cane on his hand. I hadn't the slightest idea who he was, I couldn't remember having met him before, yet I could almost hear a corner of my heart, of my soul, calling to him in a way it'd never called to anyone else. It made me all the more curious about him.

"So, without further ado, we have, the Songstress!" The owner called loudly.

His voice pulled me abruptly from my odd line of thought, but I didn't show it. Instead I forced myself to look away from the man on the balcony. I directed a short look at the guests, who were all standing as close to me as they could without crowding me; I nodded at them respectfully before turning back to the piano, staring at my hands, I began playing ever so slowly:

"I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
Your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone...  
These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase...  
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me..."

I'd never sang that song before, it was something I'd kept to myself for years. I'd begun creating it years ago, before I even became a singer, and I never really planned on singing it for anyone other than myself. It just felt too personal somehow... I knew not who the person I was singing about was supposed to be, if he even was an actual person and not simply the way my mind had chosen to cope with an absence it would never truly comprehend. And yet, something had pushed me to sing it that day, something told me it was extremely important, that so much depended on it: more than my life, more than any life: my heart and soul were on the line. So I sang.

"You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me...  
These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase..."  
"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me...  
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along..."

Ever so slowly the crowd seemed to almost disappear from around me, until the moment where no one and nothing existed but me, the piano and the song I was singing... and the man on the balcony, watching me sing with an intensity that seemed to burn into my very soul. I didn't understand what it meant, but in the end I chose to simply not pay attention to it anymore. I ignored any thought, my own heart and soul, in the end I simply let go and sang with all I was...

"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have all of me...  
Me...  
Me..."

" _Nightingale..."_

When the song ended I couldn't help but sag. It felt as if I suddenly had no energy left, no breath even, I could hardly think. I didn't even notice when my aunt approached me, obviously worried, wanting to know what was going on.

Terrified screams woke me up from my stupor. I blinked several times, allowing my mind to clear, just in time to see the very same man from the balcony walk past my aunt and I; as he did his clothes shifted from the formal attire to something I would almost call mythological in appearance, and which seemed so familiar it pained me somehow. The clothes were green silk and dark leather, covered by golden armor, including a helmet with big, curved horns. Besides that, the cane had changed into a scepter with a glowing blue jewel near the top. The screams came from the gala's guests, running outside the museum in front of him.

I didn't move, not when the people screamed, not when he walked past me as if he couldn't see Aunt Kathryn and I... except I knew he could, he'd been staring at me before, after all. Why then was he ignoring us? Why was he so bent on causing terror on all the people who'd been in the museum, except for us?

I still didn't move when Aunt Kathryn decided to take a chance and moved near the center of the room. It was until then that I noticed the man on the table. Dr. Heinrich... something, I didn't actually remember; he was one of the richest patrons of the House of Art; and apparently a victim of whoever the man in green was supposed to be... and why did I feel like I should know exactly who he was? Like I'd felt when seeing those clothes, when noticing those deep jade-green eyes and the way they'd stared at me...

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I moved; part of my mind said I had to go to my aunt, either help her with the injured man, or just convince her to run with me. In the end, what I did was completely different. I went straight to the main entrance to the museum, where everyone had exited. I didn't even hear Aunt Kathryn calling to me, though I was almost sure she had... she was too busy saving the doctor's life to go after me.

For a short while I did nothing as I stood half-hidden by the museum's entrance, silently watching the strange, entrancing man in the odd clothing as he walked in between all the kneeling guests, giving some kind of speech:

"Is not this simpler?" He asked dramatically. "Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your

life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end... you will always kneel."

I became aware, in a fraction of a second, from the corner of my eye, than an old man was about to stand, about to defy the unknown man... I didn't like it. I knew he would fail, only managing to put himself in danger. I have no idea what made me think I'd a better chance than he did, in the end I simply stepped into the open and spoke.

"And what are you supposed to be then?" I called loudly.

"Excuse me?" He turned to me abruptly.

For an instant I could see a flash of shock in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. He then focused all his attention on me, seemingly forgetting the humans at his feet. Not knowing where I got the courage from, I simply stepped forward, pacing by the museum's entrance, a few feet from him, as if uncaring about how dangerous he was (though I was perfectly conscious of it, both due to what I'd already seen, and the instinct screaming at me that he was most definitely not human, and more dangerous than I could begin to comprehend).

"You say humans were made to be ruled, to kneel..." I commented. "And you obviously consider yourself different enough that you mean to be the one to rule so... what are you supposed to be? What makes you so different from us humans?"

"I am a God!" He told me strongly.

"Did you know the Japanese Emperors of old claimed they were sons of gods?" I inquired almost absently. "In the end they lost their power. Japan is now a democracy. Claiming divinity is not a way of really gaining power among humans."

"I am not a human making claims at divinity..." He grumbled, somehow sounding more petulant than truly angry. "I am a god! I am Loki, of Asgard, the God of Mischief, Lies, Chaos..."

"Norse mythology..." I mumbled, ignoring the pang the subject caused me. "Since only the Norse considered those as gods, does than mean that those of us that are from other religions don't need to see you as a divine being?"

"Are you mocking me, lady?" He almost demanded of me. "Do you find this funny?"

"To answer your questions in order." I told him serenely. "Whyever would I want to mock a man who's already proven he can hurt an innocent? And how could I ever find it funny to see so many people kneeling out of fear to someone who doesn't deserve it?"

"That I don't deserve it..." He grumbled.

He was angry, I could practically taste his change of mood in the air; yet I couldn't find it in myself to care, or to feel even the slightest bit afraid.

"Respect is not demanded, it is earned." I retorted strongly. "You demand for people to kneel before you, and they do because they're afraid. They've already seen you hurt others tonight. And are too afraid to fight back. Well, I'm not! I have seen what you're capable of and I do not care. Regardless of who you might claim to be, to me you are nothing but a man, one who deserves no recognition. I refuse to kneel to you!"

Beside us, people began to get up, beginning with the same old man I'd noticed earlier, about to defy the so-called god himself. It seemed like my defiance was enough to push them to be brave. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad, I could only hope for the best.

The raven-haired, for his part, was furious. Whatever it was he'd planned exactly, after getting the people to kneel, I was ruining those plans. However, the real surprise was that, despite his obvious anger, he wasn't trying to attack me. Something was holding him back, though I hadn't the slightest idea what, exactly.

And then we were interrupted by the arrival of a man in blue, wearing a cowl, carrying a blue, red and white shield... Captain America?! Just what was going on? I knew not, but his arrival seemed to give the people the final push they needed to get on their feet and run. I stayed where I was; though from the corner of my eye I could see my aunt standing at the museum's entrance.

"By the authority of S.H.I.E.L.D., you are under arrest." The Captain called as he stood on guard. "Ma'am, you better stand back."

"The soldier..." Loki called dramatically. "The man out of time..."

"I'm not the one who's out of time." The 'hero' quipped.

A second later an odd-looking aircraft was just above us, a huge machine gun was hanging from the underside, pointing straight at us.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down." A female voice called from the craft.

For a moment it looked like the self-appointed Norse God would ignore the warning and fight back; and then in the next moment he was lowering his hands in an almost submissive gesture, his armor seemingly dissolving into thin air. And I could almost swear he looked straight at me for a fraction of a second, that instant between one moment and the next. A part of me wondered if he'd really chosen to stand down because he worried the bullets from that gun might hit me... Except the rest of me insisted it simply wasn't possible, I wasn't that important. Then why? Why give up when he had the advantage? It wasn't logical!

I was still standing there, unmoving, considering what I should do next, when yet another person arrived; in red and gold armor: none other than Iron Man.

"What?" He asked, looking around as if not understanding what was going on. "What's going on here? Did I miss the party?"

Somehow Captain America looked uncomfortable at the new arrival, for he said nothing to him; instead, he was still staring at me, probably wondering why I hadn't followed his instructions to move back and get away from the 'criminal'; not like I could explain to him that I wasn't in any danger, especially when I had no idea where I got that notion from.

"There was no party, Stark." A female voice told him.

She was a redhead, dressed in black from head to toe. I also recognized her voice as the one that had come from the small jet that had aimed at Loki with the huge machine gun.

"Ah, Miss Rushman... oh no, that's isn't right, it's Agent Romanoff, right?" Iron Man sounded really sarcastic when he said that.

It was obvious there was some history between those two, even if I didn't know what. Why was I even interested? It's not like I had anything to do with them or with whatever was going on!

"Reindeer Games gave up then, just like that?" Iron Man inquired, disbelieving.

"He was talking with the girl when I arrived..." The Captain pointed out.

I was just about to point out I was no child when, unexpectedly, Stark pushed away his mask, looking at me in shock and obvious recognition.

"The Songstress!" He cried out.

I just rolled my eyes, catching a peek at my own blonde fore-bang, I should have seen it coming.

"So, you're the singer they call the Songstress?" The redhead wanted to confirm.

She extended a hand towards me, probably in politeness, but before she could get close enough my aunt was suddenly standing there.

"I imagine you're here to handle the matter now." Aunt Kathryn stated coldly. "Therefore, we shall take our leave."

"I'm afraid it won't be that easy ma'am." The Agent told my aunt. "If the girl has talked to Loki, Director Fury will want to talk to her."

"All my niece did was distract him with words, nothing extraordinary." My aunt insisted.

"Maybe, but you still need to come with us." The redhead insisted.

It looked like Aunt Kathryn wanted to hold onto her refusal (though I knew not why), but in the end she simply nodded. Why was she so against me talking to this... Director Fury? It's not like I was exactly eager, but I didn't see what the problem was. Besides, I couldn't help, deep inside, the strange need to stay close to Loki. There was something about him that drew me in, and while a part of me knew it was dangerous, that he was very dangerous; it also seemed somehow right, and I couldn't help but go along with that feeling.

"Aunt Kathryn." I called her quietly, though still acting pretty emotionlessly. "Yesterday you told me that after this gala we would be free until the 26th... that means we lose nothing by going along with these people."

What I didn't say was that I didn't think they would take no for an answer, I didn't need to, she knew as well as I did, probably even better; after all, she did work for the government for years, before leaving that life to raise me.

"Fine." She nodded. "But you're not going anywhere without me." She turned to Romanoff. "I don't care what your Director might think about it. Wherever she goes, I go, understood?"

Her voice was strong, authoritative; it was obvious that she didn't care what power the Agent might have usually; things would be done the way Kathryn Salani said, or not at all. Romanoff simply nodded, either because she agreed or thought they would get the chance to get their way later on, I did not know; I chose not to worry about it for the time being.

As we were lead to the small plane, quinjet as Romanoff, who happened to be one of the pilots, called it; I couldn't help but keep directing subtle looks at the 'criminal' Captain America was guiding to the vessel. There was just something about him that was so fascinating... and I would find out what it was, I needed to.

**xXx**

Things just got more insane after that. On our way to... wherever Agent Romanoff's boss was, a thunderstorm began out of nowhere. Only, as it turned out, it wasn't a normal storm, it announced the arrival of yet another so-called god, Thor this time. And while I did remember having studied European Mythology, Literature and History for three years... it was one thing to agree that men might have existed over a thousand years prior that were so remarkable in some particular way that others considered them as gods... but for there to actually be men who existed back then, and still did a little over a thousand years later, with powers that far surpassed those of any humans... Granted, I knew mutants, and some were quite amazing, like Prof. Xavier, his partner, and others like Rogue and the Wolverine... but still!

Thor's arrival caused some delays. Mainly because he, for whatever the reason, pretty much forced his way into the quinjet, only to take Loki and then jump off the aircraft with him. Iron Man and Captain America went after the two, and eventually Romanoff landed the plane to pick them all up. Then we were on our way again.

I knew several people were curious about me, about the fact that I had spoken with Loki, and somehow managed to distract him enough that there never was the fight S.H.I.E.L.D. had been expecting. However, I ignored their questioning looks, hiding myself behind my usual apathy and blankness. Aunt Kathryn was a completely different matter entirely, keeping herself firmly between me and everyone else on the vessel.

We both knew I wasn't a child, though when the Agent and even the so-called heroes kept calling me such neither of us tried to dissuade them, mainly because, as long as they saw me as a child, as someone small and vulnerable, I was more protected.

We made it to the helicarrier (that's what Agent Romanoff called the flying fortress S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest ranking members had quartered in) after a few more hours of flight. According to Aunt Kathryn's calculations we were somewhere in the North Atlantic.

Romanoff guided us to the bridge while Iron Man and Captain America went to get changed into more normal clothes and a dozen armed Agents lead Loki somewhere else.

Once in the bridge several screens were activated in the high-tech table we were all sat around, showing the same image: that of a surveillance camera in what could be called Loki's new 'cell'. It was cylindrical, glass all around, impact-proof, and connected to a mechanism that would allow it to be dropped off the helicarrier (approximately 30,000 feet) if the cage was damaged in any way. The measures were certainly extreme, especially if one considered Loki's own comment about it not being meant for him... I had no idea who it was meant for then, though I had my suspicions. The government had never been known to trust people with more power than they, a clear example of that being the conflicts that had happened between the mutants and the military, first in 2003 and then in 2006 (and that last one I would never forget, even if I'd just seen it through the TV). S.H.I.E.L.D. especially seemed like the kind of organization that wouldn't trust anyone, probably not even its own members.

The answer, to at least some of it, came when in between his too-scientific speech Stark suddenly mentioned something about Dr. Banner turning into a 'huge green rage monster'... I remembered then the news that had appeared a year or so before: about the 'titanic battle between two huge beings in the middle of Harlem'. I'd at first thought mutants were involved; apparently I'd been wrong in that assessment.

However, before I could think too much about that, or Aunt Kathryn could gather her wits enough to comment on it, a black man all in leather, with an eye-patch covering an eye, entered. I knew who he was without anyone needing to say anything, it was written in every step he gave, n the way he carried himself, in the very aura surrounding him: Director Nick Fury...

"Doctor Banner is only here to track the Cube. I was hoping you might join him." Director Fury announced calmly as he entered the bridge.

"I'd start with that stick of his." Steve suggested. "It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the Cube." Fury retorted. "And I would like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

He was obviously upset, but that was lost in the reaction of several of those present to the metaphor he'd used at the end.

"Monkeys? I do not understand..." Thor was evidently confused.

"I do!" Captain Rogers, as he'd introduced himself to my Aunt and I, seemed especially satisfied about that fact. "I... I understood that reference."

It seemed like Stark was about to say something to Dr. Banner, probably regarding the work they were supposed to do together. But Aunt Kathryn chose that very moment to make our presence known (everyone really seem to never really see us, as they talked previously).

"And since you're so focused on giving everyone tasks, what will you have us do, Nicholas?" She called in a smooth, low voice.

It was strange, the way Aunt Kathryn seemed to almost transform as she spoke. In the span of a sentence she'd gone from the soft, serene, easy woman who watched everything in silence, kept my agenda and followed me around through interviews and concerts; into a woman I'd never seen, one who stood straight, who held quiet authority and power inside her willowy, unseeming body, and she knew it.

Fury's reaction to the words, or more precisely, to the voice that spoke them, was instantaneous; and obviously nothing anyone on that bridge, on that vessel, had been expecting. He turned around sharply, his eyes searching for the person who'd spoken, and the moment he found my aunt... his mouth didn't drop open, his eye didn't widen... but there was still something in his posture that revealed his shock as clearly as if any of the other things had happened... or maybe that was only how it seemed in my mind.

"Katharine..." Fury's voice was so low I could barely hear it.

Still, at least two of the Agents on the bridge heard him, and it was enough to make them react as they turned to my Aunt instantly.

"Agent Adler." They said at the same time.

"Hey Philip... Maria..." My aunt smiled kindly as she turned to each of them. "And I must remind you the correct use of my title is Former Agent Adler... I am just Kathryn Salani now, I am and have been nothing more than a civilian for almost eighteen years..."

"Once S.H.I.E.L.D., always S.H.I.E.L.D." Maria Hill murmured something that seemed almost like some kind of motto.

"You were our SO, how could we ever forget you?" Phil added.

"That was almost a lifetime ago." Aunt Kathryn said, almost wistfully. "Things change, don't you think so, Nicholas? Or should I call you Director Fury now?"

"You've never been one to follow my orders, I don't expect you to start now that you aren't my subordinate at all." Fury stated with fake calm. "What I would like to know is what brings you here, now of all times?"

"Your Agent insisted on bringing my niece." My aunt stated, signaling to me. "She's my brother's daughter, Silbhé... though I believe these days people know her better as the Songstress..."

With that everyone's attention was instantly on me. I felt almost bashful, I'd never been one to like too much attention (ironic, considering how I became a singer), however, while on stage I didn't have to really look at anyone; and during interviews I tended to look only at the show's host and the camera, never anyone else so... Still, as shy as I felt, some instinct inside me stopped me from reacting as I usually would, an instinct that insisted that unless I stood my ground and proved I was no child, that was exactly how I would be treated.

"Yes, I am the Songstress..." I confirmed, with a serene demeanor I managed to call on somehow. "We were in that gala when the supposed-god appeared."

"Supposed-god?" Several people asked at the same time.

"I hold my own thoughts regarding divinity." I answered simply.

"I've been told that you were found talking with the criminal when my people arrived." Fury commented thoughtfully as he approached me.

"I was." I shrugged. "Really, someone had to stop him before things got too far. And if your people had fought him, innocents might have ended up hurt, or dead!"

Really, did he think I would deny it? Enough people saw me. It was quite possible that some surveillance cameras had caught the exchange, so denying it would be pointless.

"And you thought you had the power to stop an insane maniac claiming to be a god?" Maria Hill arched a brow in disbelief.

I could hear the snorts of several of the Agents on the lower levels. However, and surprisingly enough, neither Director Fury nor the man my aunt had called Phil, made any derisive comments about me or my actions; instead they just seemed more curious.

"What were you talking about?" Fury insisted.

"I asked him what he was supposed to be." I answered honestly, taking a deep breath before elaborating. "Since he was addressing humans as lesser beings, I wanted to know how he thought he was different... I mean, he did look human to me, so..."

"And you didn't think it was insane to go around challenging an insane man?" Stark inquired. "Especially after the power he was showing already."

"They were illusions." I said simply.

"What...?" No one was expecting that.

"What do you mean?" Maria Hill inquired.

"His doubles, the figures supposedly blocking the people from leaving, they weren't real." I tried to explain. "They were only illusions... They weren't tangible?"

Really, was I the only one who noticed that? I hadn't actually been there the moment the doubles had appeared (all the guests were already kneeling and he was doing his dramatic speech when I stepped out of the House of Art), but it had still been pretty obvious to me from the very moment I'd seen the 'clones' standing guard around the kneeling people.

"How do you know that?" Banner was very curious, all of a sudden.

"I have never known anyone to be capable of so easily identifying my brother's illusions as such, my lady." Thor commented, intrigued. "How could you see what so many others cannot?"

So really, no one else had noticed... how then did I? I couldn't exactly tell them that I just knew, though that was the truth. It had been an instinct. However, once I thought it over I began noticing details, things I had only seen in passing at the time.

"There were no shadows." I said, finally. "The copies cast no shadows, the light went right through them, showing they weren't corporeal. Also, they would flicker every so often... almost as if he didn't have enough power to hold them stable..."

And suddenly I was beginning to wonder myself...

"My brother's seidhr... his magic, is the strongest I'd ever seen, aside from the power our Mother, Queen Frigg, wields." Thor stated solemnly. "Never have I known his illusions to fail, unless he means for them to... or he's... low on energy."

He was avoiding saying weak, though I could hear it still. It was as if a part of him simply refused to see his brother as weak in any way. For whatever the reason I couldn't help but approve that line of thought.

"So, either Rock of the Ages isn't as strong right now as he wants us to believe or, what? He's playing with us?" Even Stark didn't seem to know.

"We will need to interrogate him to find out." Hill stated seriously.

"Agent Romanoff..." Phil began.

"Sir, Director, if I may." Romanoff interrupted softly before turning to look straight at me. "I think she should talk to him."

"What...?!" None of us was expecting that, especially not I.

"My niece is not part of S.H.I.E.L.D." Aunt Kathryn said immediately. "Nicholas..."

"Agent Adler." Romanoff interrupted again. "I don't mean to say she should be part of anything officially. But the truth of the matter is, he's already talked to her. For whatever the reason he chose to argue with her, civilly even! Rather than attack her. Whatever his reason was for that in Stuttgart, there's a chance your niece might be able to get him to talk more. And there is a lot we need to know right now..."

I realized what they were doing, they wanted to use me; I did not like that. However, a part of me really wanted to talk to the self-acclaimed god again; even if I knew he was dangerous, dangerous in ways I couldn't fully comprehend, I still wanted to talk to him, to be close to him... so I agreed.

**xXx**

In the end the Director insisted on waiting till the next day before I was allowed near Loki. I had no change of clothes, but I made due with what I had, the skirt was actually longer than I'd used it, nearly reaching my ankles, and a zipper opened up a side enough I could move easily in it. I removed the second layer of the dress, substituting it with a black wrap Aunt Kathryn had kept in her bag, for me, it covered half of my shoulders, and as far as my elbows, going around my torso snugly. I also changed my heels for a pair of simple, black ballet-like flats. Pretty nice for an alternate attire, if I said so myself.

Philip Coulson, one of the two Agents who had apparently had my aunt as a superior officer in the past, was the one who guided me to the corner of the helicarrier where Loki awaited in his glass-cage after lunch. He looked no different than he had the day before, not since he'd vanished his golden armor, in any case. There was no visible reaction in him the moment I stepped into the room, the guards leaving immediately, silently (they apparently had their orders). I knew the Director, my Aunt, and a number of others were watching on the bridge, thanks to the cameras all around, but I cared little for that.

"You know you don't have to do this if you don't want to, right?" Philip asked me one last time.

I nodded, not actually answering him. I knew, of course I did; and while I was extremely nervous, a part of me really wanted to talk to the self-acclaimed god again. So I just nodded at him and stepped fully into the room, allowing the door to close behind him.

It was quite obvious the moment Loki became aware of me, even if his posture did not change in the slightest, standing as he was in the very center of the cell; but his eyes bore on me, so intense I couldn't repress a slight shiver... and somehow it felt good. As if my body welcomed something in that look, in the intensity of that stare.

"Good afternoon." I told him with a nod, choosing to be polite. "My name is Silbhé Salani..."

"This, I wasn't expecting." He admitted, afterwards biting his lower lip slightly, as if not liking that he'd revealed such a thing.

"You knew the people working in this vessel, and the government they work for, would want you interrogated at some point." It wasn't a question, and we both knew it.

"True." He nodded, almost shrugging. "However, you are not one of them. Which begets the question, why are you here?"

"The Director believes that since you already talked civilly to me once, we might be lucky again." I didn't see any point in hiding the truth from him.

Truly, if he was half as good as human mythology claimed, he either already knew or could find out quite easily himself... and something told me he was even better...

"The Director believes..." He repeated with a slight sneer. "And what about you?"

"I find myself curious about you." I told him with the barest hint of a smile.

"Do tell." He nodded, sounding almost eager to my ears. "What is it that the woman-child whom humans have compared to a Sorceress and a Goddess herself, find so curious about someone like me, a true god?"

"I'm still not quite sure about all that divinity thing." I admitted with a shrug as I began pacing in the catwalk before the cell.

"The views of your own human religion conflict with what I claim to be." It wasn't a question.

"Maybe, though I've always considered myself to be very open-minded." I told him. "You could be one of many manifestations of the God I believe in, or maybe an emissary, like an angel..."

"Or a demon." He finished for me.

"I do not think you're that." I shook my head. "Demons are evil. And while Lucifer has been said to have a penchant for dramatics, back in Stuttgart you hurt no one but the doctor... I'm not saying it was right, but you could have done so much worse, and you didn't."

"So you think me an angel then?" He seemed to really be getting into the conversation.

"Not that either." I shook my head. "Too much free-will for that, and I just don't see you as someone who truly wants to be... just good."

"Too boring." He admitted without any compunction. "So then, if I'm not your god, or a demon, or an angel, what am I supposed to be?"

"That, I do not know yet." I admitted, my own brow furrowing as I added, without truly thinking about it. "Though a part of me feels like I should..."

His eyes flashed, just for an instant, but it was enough to leave me breathless for a moment.

"So, you're here to be my interrogator, but you have yet to ask any questions that matter." He pointed out after a few seconds, beginning to pace himself.

"Since I've never done something like this, I don't actually know what I should be asking." I half-admitted, half-acted. "In any case, if I were to make any questions, would you answer them?"

"It depends on whether you ask the right questions." He replied.

"And what would those questions be?" I was beginning to find our exchange so very interesting, the way we said so much, and then nothing at all.

"Ah ah." He shook his head almost mischievously. "I'm not going to make it easier for you. No, I wonder what you might consider as the right questions..."

"How about this for a start?" I suggested, suddenly thinking of something. "I've been told that you attacked the doctor in Stuttgart, because you needed his access, something he had, I didn't actually pay any attention to what it was exactly. However, I've heard what everyone else is saying, how you will use the Cube, the Tesseract, to open a portal, to let an alien army into our world, to conquer us."

"Is there a question somewhere in there." He asked in a bored tone, though it was contradicted by the expression in his eyes.

"Why?" I finished.

"Why?" He repeated, either not understanding, or not wanting to answer.

"Why do you have any interest in conquering our world, the human race?" I clarified. "I mean, from what I understand with what I've read of mythology, gods care little for mortals, you see us as small, insignificant, our lives too short to mean anything to those like you who either live forever, or long enough that we see it as forever anyway." I took a deep breath, stopping to consider things a bit more. "It's not like you have to defend yourselves from us in any way. We didn't know you, your kind, anything like it existed until you made an appearance! In fact, most of humanity still has no idea."

"What's wrong with simply wanting to rule this realm?" Loki inquired.

"I just cannot see what you hope to gain from it." I insisted. "If you managed such a thing... the world is still big, too many nations, many different nations. God or not, I believe even someone like the Loki mythology has described would be hard pegged to keep the whole world under control. And it's not like we could ever become one single nation... something like that hasn't happened since biblical times so... What do you really hope to achieve by provoking a war between Earth and this alien race? It cannot be conquest, or not just that, in any case..."

"Such a rare gem you are..." The god whispered unexpectedly. "A true diamond hidden among all those pieces of coal..."

I realized he was complimenting me, which meant I was right in my theories. Wondered what the people on the bridge might think about them... they might even be angry I didn't bring the topic up with them before, except it hadn't actually occurred to me then, not until I was already talking to the pseudo-god.

"So, what is it then, the reason, I mean?" I insisted.

"I think I might have been wrong." Loki announced abruptly. "Maybe you are a good little S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent after all..."

"I care little about them." I didn't care much about their opinion on that. "And I doubt they care much about the question I just made. I believe people like them... they care more about the hows, how will you do things? How can they stop you?"

"Yet you care much about the why...?" He murmured, intrigued.

"Motivation, it says a lot about a person, human or not." I commented, suddenly thoughtfully. "There is this show on TV I really like, it's called Criminal Minds. The government agents there are profilers; they study a case: the victims, the conditions, the context, and put it all together to get an idea of the criminal, all from what he's likely to look like, his age, physical condition, and even the kind of job he might have; they also tend to work out the kind of people they might attack and why they do it."

"This is not a tv show." He pointed out grimly.

"I know." I nodded. "I still think that if I could learn enough about your motives, I would be able to understand what you're really trying to do..."

"Really...?!" His tone went from disbelieving to sarcastic in an instant. "You think you know me? That you stand a chance at knowing me?" He snorted. "The stupid fool standing on the bridge of this vessel with the Director of your so-called Agency and the bunch of would-be heroes has called himself my brother for a millennia and he knows nothing about me, the real me! What makes you think you've got a chance, at all, in succeeding where he's failed for fifty times the years you've lived?"

"I don't know." I admitted with a little sigh. "But I'm nothing if not persistent."

"And very curious, maybe even too curious... tell me, what do you hope to gain from this? From any of this? Do you think your little human friends wil be able to stop me?"

"That's not something I really need to worry about."

"And what, do tell makes you so confident about that?"

"Because if you really wanted our world to burn... it would be on fire already." I rolled my eyes. "You know, I studied mythology in college, a few years ago... there's quite a lot I've forgotten, too much even, but I do remember that Loki was well-known for being the God of Mischief..."

"...and Lies." He finished for me. "Do not forget that part."

"I haven't, though it's of no relevance to the point I'm trying to make."

"And what is that point?"

It had been a while since my arrival, and by that point he'd stopped pacing, choosing to lay almost languidly against the glass wall across from where I was perched on the metal railings of one of the catwalks leading to the cell... cage, whichever. He seemed to truly be enjoying our exchange, and if I were to be perfectly honest, so was I.

"God of Mischief... while I think most would consider it a joke of a title, I think it holds some true importance. Bearing such a title, it's not just a matter of being able to make jokes, or play pranks, it's also a matter of planning them... strategizing. Logic would dictate then that you are a decent strategist at the very least, though I'm quite sure you're much better than that..."

"Does all this ego-stroking have a point?" He might have interrupted, but I knew he was still enjoying the 'ego stroking'.

"Yes, you are a strategist, a very good one, I'm sure. However, starting a war on Earth isn't exactly what I would call a sound strategy. If you've researched at least the basics of human history you must know the consequences starting such a war would have. Even if that alien army takes down the pseudo-heroes standing right now on the bridge, and every Agent on this vessel, it's not like humanity will just surrender. Others will rise and fight; individuals with remarkable abilities, like the X-Men and other metas, and even average humans. And if that proves not to be enough... well, the UN might insist on disabling missiles but I'm quite sure at least some nukes must still exist, and not just under American jurisdiction. The war that would come of that... the planet would be ravaged by it all. By the end you would have no planet and no race, nothing at all. Thus, conquest cannot be your plan..." I took a deep breath before jumping into the craziest part of my theory. "Which means that something else is going on. Something we cannot see, beyond what's happening right now, most likely connected to whoever is giving you the alien army... and quite probably something that, unless stopped in time, will be a lot worse than an attempt at conquering our planet..."

For a few seconds not a word was spoken. I was unsure if I'd gotten it all hilariously wrong, or so right the pseudo-god was about to go off on me, and then... then he began clapping.

"Oh that is... priceless, remarkable, truly." He said in a tone that seemed to mix cold honesty with something else I couldn't fully point out. "Such sharp eyes, and a quick mind, especially for someone so pitifully broken inside..."

"What...?" I hadn't seen that one coming. "Broken? What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about..."

"No I do..."

"I'm talking about the hole in your memories, in your heart, in your very soul!" He interrupted me. "You can feel it, can't you? Can you feel that void...?"

"What do you know about it?" I jumped off the railing, facing him directly through the glass. "What do you know about my missing memories? About me?!"

"Everything..." The sole word was said with such intensity I couldn't breathe...

"Do you have something to do with it?" I asked next, growing increasingly desperate. "Is that why you passed by me in the House of Art? Why you did not hurt me even when I defied you on the street? Is that why I feel this instinct inside me, screaming at me, every time I look at you?!"

He did not answer, but I did not need him to, the answer was written in the very tension charging the air all around me, around us.

"Why can't I remember?!" My voice came out as a wail.

For a number of very long, very painful seconds, not a word was said. I was on my knees, not even sure when exactly my legs had stopped holding me, panting, fighting to take in a breath, and yet it didn't seem enough, no matter what I did... the despair was so great.. I was probably hyperventilating, my heart beating too fast, my lungs not working quite right...

"Breathe..."

The word, the voice, it was almost compelling; but it did its job. I managed to get control of my breathing, and eventually my mind.

When I could finally open my eyes again and actually see clearly, Loki was crouched inside the cage, in the point closest to where I still knelt, looking at me with an expression that could almost be called... worry?

"Why don't you ask that oaf who insists on calling himself my brother what happens when one of us makes nice with one of you?" He suggested to me.

His voice was quiet, enough that, had I been in my five senses at the time, I would have realized he'd made sure the cameras didn't pick up on it. But in that moment I was just too exhausted to think too hard about it.

Suddenly I felt a pair of arms behind me, helping me back onto my feet. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Phil. He got me out of the room, and then back to the quarters Aunt Kathryn and I had slept in the previous night, where she was already waiting for me. I didn't say a word, not to him, or her; too tired to even think about anything that had been said and done. I just laid down and went to sleep.

**xXx Kathryn's POV xXx**

" _Why can't I remember?!"_

No matter what I did, how I tried to busy myself, I just couldn't get that heart-breaking cry (wail) out of my head. It had been a while since I'd last seen my niece so out of control, but I could still remember it, I could still remember that day...

_It was late summer of '09 and Silbhé had just returned home after her two-month stay in Europe, half the time in Norway, the other half in Germany, she had reinforced her knowledge in several topics, including the local languages. She would be leaving for Norwich University in just two weeks for her second year of grad studies, and so I was enjoying the time we had together until then. The night before she'd left me in the drawing room after we'd shared some apple pie and cold water with lemon, while cuddling together on the biggest couch, watching one of our favorite TV shows: Criminal Minds. It was something we enjoyed a lot, our shared time. She had retrieved some lemongrass tea (her favorite) and a couple of chocolate chip cookies, said they were her midnight snack, before leaving for her bedroom._

_Next morning I had an early shift at the hospital where I worked as a nurse, which ended turning into a double when some serious storms caused a traffic accident on the highway and there were just too many patients for me to leave. I left her a message in the answering machine (as she did not answer the phone) and continued working. After 24 hours straight working I was so tired I went to sleep on a bed in the hospital's break room._

_I woke up mid-afternoon, taking a shower and changing into the set of clothes I had in my locker for occasions such as that one; then decided I might as well buy something in a small Italian restaurant just a couple of blocks from the hospital, a small apology to my niece for leaving her for over a day, especially without any warning._

" _Silbhé!" I called the moment I stepped into the house. "I'm home sweetheart. And I brought dinner, some calzone, lasagna, and that garlic bread you like so much from Alfredo's..."_

_When I got no response I left the bags with the food on the kitchen counter, took a look out the window to make sure she wasn't in the garden (as that was one of her favorite spots) and went to the second floor. I imagined she was probably in the shower, or maybe even half asleep in the bath... it had happened before._

_She was in her room, only not in the bathroom. Instead she was laying on the bed, deeply asleep. Which would have been perfectly normal for any seventeen-year-old... except her. My Silbhé did not take afternoon naps, she said they were a waste of time, time that was better used by reading, playing music, or even just discovering some new beauty in the world, time better spent living... still, I thought maybe she'd stayed up late the previous night, waiting for me, and that was why... and then, when I called to her, she wouldn't wake up..._

_I will never forget the absolute bone-chilling terror I felt when I called her name, repeatedly, with growing frenzy, shaking her shoulder, and eventually her whole slight frame, yet she wouldn't wake up, she just kept breathing deeply, sleeping..._

_She woke later that evening, after I'd spent over two hours sitting by her side, wondering if I should just call for an ambulance. Except I had no idea what to tell them, her vitals were perfectly normal for someone in deep sleep, and it's not like she had a history of any kind of problems besides the Cancer, and that problem was supposed to be behind us!_

_In the end, that probably would have been better than the expression of absolute confusion and the... the emptiness in her eyes when she finally did wake up._

It took no time to realize pieces of her memory were missing, but even after three years I still had no idea of what the connection between some of those pieces was. I knew she did not remember Luka, her dear friend, the one I'd never actually met; she didn't remember how she'd gotten the beautiful black jade flute she always had with her, though that didn't stop her from playing it; she remembered her languages, but her studies in mythology, literature, and even some of the history (her mayors) were so broken it simply wasn't possible for her to return to Norwich that Fall.

It had been a year later, in an outing I insisted she joined me (the girl spent too much time coped up inside the mansion), we were in a new Karaoke-Restaurant-Bar in Portland. I don't even know what made her decide to get on the stage, it wasn't alcohol, she never drank, and she'd never been one to bow to peer pressure (and it's not like any of those present were her peers). However when she sang, Jason Walker's 'Echo', in fact, it was as if, for the first time since that awful evening... she were truly breathing, truly living.

Someone heard her in that bar, and later on I had someone looking for me at the hospital, saying they had an offer for the 'girl with the voice of a crying angel' (his words, not mine). I was even more surprised when Silbhé heard his offer and actually agreed to become a singer, it just didn't seem her style. There was also the fact that I had to quit my job at the hospital to become her manager and join her when she went to record, and later on her concerts and tours. And yet... seeing her come alive whenever she sang, even if it was just for a few minutes at a time, it made anything worth it. She had even explained it to me once, somewhat, right after she'd finished recording her very first song...

" _Oh Auntie... I know you don't understand this but, the truth is, it's only when I'm singing that I feel I can truly breathe..."_

After a while I pretty much grew used to the new lifestyle. I could have never expected for things to change all over again, especially not in the manner they did, that night in Stuttgart. It was supposed to be pretty simple, a gala in the House of Art, rich people donating for a worthwhile cause, a song from the 'Songstress' at some point... I wasn't sure who or when it was decided that would be a good 'artistic name' for my niece, but at least it was better than the first one they'd tried, which had made her practically catatonic for almost an hour straight (and I never found out why... though I suspected it was connected with everything else that just wasn't right with her, and hadn't been since that thrice-damned evening).

Then there was Stuttgart, that song I'd never heard before and yet seemed to be coming straight from my niece's heart and soul in a way I couldn't fully comprehend... that awfully violent man, the way he'd destroyed Dr. Heinrich's eye with that strange torture-like device, and whatever insanity made Silbhé think it was a good idea to actually stand against him... only he didn't hurt her, he was actually civil towards her!

I never expected to ever come in contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. again, not after I retired almost two decades before; regardless of how some people, like Maria might say that 'once S.H.I.E.L.D., always S.H.I.E.L.D.', and as good as a part of me might feel seeing some of them, like Maria, Phil and even Nicholas again, see what had become of them, I still considered myself a civilian. Also, the thing I definitely wanted the least was for my niece (my already painfully hurt... damaged niece, to end up involved). Then Romanova had to go and say Silbhé should be the one to get the self-acclaimed Norse-god to talk... worse even, Silbhé agreed, and even I knew there was a chance she could do it. She proved me right, in more than one respect, more than I ever expected, or wanted...

I will never forget the expressions of absolute shock, and later on careful consideration when everyone on the bridge heard her outline her theory to the 'prisoner'.

"That girl is a genius..." Stark murmured, obvious fascination in his voice.

"You truly have a remarkable niece, Kathryn..." Philip said quietly. "She would have made an outstanding Agent..."

"I already told you Philip, this is the last thing I ever wanted for her, this life..." I shook my head, not fully sure how to explain it. "Even with what has happened in the last few years, Silbhé is such an idealist, a dreamer..."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. would destroy her." Philip finished grimly.

I didn't answer for him, I didn't need to; we all knew how being an Agent changed us; and much as some may like that life, it still wasn't one we would wish for those we loved most. I also didn't tell him I wasn't even sure if there was anything in Silbhé left to be destroyed... the mere idea was too painful to even begin to contemplate.

And then things took a turn for the dark and insane, when the pseudo-god called Silbhé on her broken state, how did he even know about her missing memories and how she felt about them? Even with her usual demeanor, no one had ever been able to see how bad things truly were; some reporters has claimed at one point that she was chronically depressed, or something along those lines, but the gossip had died down soon enough, and no one believed it in the first place. I think it was simply that the public refused to believe that someone who was so famous, who should have everything she could ever dream of, could be truly depressed... it went against the idea that things like fame, money, etc. could give anyone true happiness (some of us actually knew better, but still). At the very least no one was bothering my niece anymore with uncomfortable questions about why her smiles never reached her eyes...

" _Why can't I remember?!"_

The scream was enough to make everyone watching the exchange through the screens flinch, or at the very least wince. Some turned to me immediately, searching for answers, wanting to know what was wrong with Silbhé, but my first priority was her, her and no one else, so I ignored them and rushed out of the room with Phil, who at least had the sense to want to help rather than get in my way. He managed to convince me to get back to the sleeping quarters we'd been assigned the previous night, and I at least trusted him enough to get my niece to me.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had enough decency not to bother me for the rest of the afternoon. They sent a junior agent with some dinner; I ate most of my part and then returned the half-full tray outside. There was no point in keeping it, as I had enough experience with Silbhé's breakdowns to know she wouldn't be waking up till the morning, and even then she might take longer to completely recover. She hadn't had that bad an episode in at least a year, and that worried me; but what bothered me the most was connected to what she'd screamed at the pseudo-god the previous day. Did he really have something to do with her missing memories?

As expected, Silbhé woke the next morning and I was lucky enough to be able to get her to drink a glass of cool water with some lemon juice; just enough to be sure she wouldn't dehydrate; she still refused to eat anything, though. After that she sat down in the darkest corner of our room, legs pulled tight against her chest and flute in her hands. She began playing.

Hours passed, until I heard a light knock on the door, I hurried to answer it, stepping out of the room quietly, before the noise could interrupt Silbhé (it might make her worse). Once the door was fully closed again I paid attention to my visitor, it was actually Phil.

"Is Miss Salani alright?" He asked softly.

"As well as can be expected." I answered honestly with a sigh.

"Has she... well... these breakdowns..." Phil, as gentlemanly as ever, had no idea how to phrase the question without sounding rude...

"She has had them before, yes, though not for a year now." I told him truthfully. "At first they were more common, and her trances afterwards would last for days on end, the first one lasted a full week, even..."

"You know, if she needs help..." He began, hesitant.

"The last thing Silbhé needs is a shrink." I said with more bite than I'd planned, softening my voice a second later. "It would do no good. In the first place, to truly be of help, a doctor needs to know what's going on, to understand it... how can we explain anyone things we don't understand ourselves? It's just not possible..."

"She said something yesterday, about missing memories..." he prompted.

"Yes, it's like, almost like selective amnesia, except there's no reason for it, and I have no idea what the connection between all the missing memories might be." I sighed. "Look, I'm quite sure you're not the only one wondering, Nicholas must be going out of his mind by now..." I shook my head, the last thing I needed in that moment was to worry about Nicholas Fury... "Let me take care of my niece today, I promise to explain what I can tomorrow."

"I suppose that would be alright." Phil shrugged. "In any case, we still have world-security matters to deal with. Natasha will be going in to interrogate the criminal today..."

"I wish her luck." I said honestly.

And yet, we both knew I didn't expect her to be successful at all, and neither did he.

**xXx 3** **rd** **Person POV xXx**

On Wednesday morning Silbhé woke up, ate most of the breakfast waiting for her in the tray, and actually expressed a desire to take a shower. She wasn't fully back together just yet, but it was definite improvement compared to how she'd been the day before, doing nothing but staring at the wall, hugging herself and playing low, mournful tunes with her flute every so often. Once Kathryn was convinced she would be alright, she took the cup of coffee (half-decent, though it was better than nothing) that the junior Agent had gotten her and made her way to the bridge. It was no surprise for her to find Director Fury, Sub-Director Hill, as well as Agents Coulson and Romanoff, Captain Rogers, Dr. Banner, Stark, and Thor waiting for her.

"Would you mind explaining your niece's amnesia now?" Nicholas asked straight out.

"Good morning to you too, Nicholas." Kathryn replied in a huff. "Hope you had a good night, I hardly slept a wink, but that's no surprise really, when Silbhé is unwell." He tone became even more tense as she added. "How did Agent Romanoff's interrogation go yesterday?"

"You know as well as I the answer to that." Nicholas almost hissed at her.

"Actually, no I don't; after all, I hardly left my niece's side yesterday." Kathryn retorted strongly. "However, I can make an educated guess..."

"He gave nothing." Romanoff clarified. "Matter of fact, he refused to say a single word to me. However, he kept demanding to see the Songstress. At some point he said 'Min nattergalen'... or something along those lines..."

There was a gasp, somewhere in the room, but no one cared too much about that.

"What does that mean?" Kathryn inquired.

"We don't know." Maria shook her head.

"I don't know, and I know more than twenty languages and dialects." Stark pointed out, he seemed particularly incensed about that.

"My niece might be able to help." Kathryn offered reticently. "She's fluent in a dozen languages herself. Even with everything she has forgotten, she might know what those words mean, even if you do not know how it's written, as long as you can pronounce them as he did."

Romanoff nodded, they might not be able to research the phrase better as they had no idea how to write it down, but she could certainly repeat it out-loud.

"Kathryn..." Phil called quietly.

"Yes, Silbhé's amnesia..." She took a long sip from her coffee, let out a breath and began the explanation. "It happened three years ago. I'm not even sure what happened, actually, I got back home after pulling a double shift and sleeping at the hospital, when I got there she was laying on her bed, she wouldn't wake up... her vitals didn't show anything being wrong, so I refrained from calling an ambulance, she woke up a little over two hours later... it was awful... she looked so confused, so lost... she had no idea why she'd been sleeping in the afternoon, or what she was doing before going to sleep. The last thing she remembered was watching the latest episode from Criminal Minds with me, while eating some apple pie, and that had been two nights before!" She took a breath to calm down. "When she began to get truly hysterical I told her she had been ill, had spent most of the last two days sleeping."

"That worked?" Hill was surprised.

"Only temporarily." Kathryn admitted. "In the following days we realized she'd forgotten a lot more than just the last two days... there were small things: like time she would spend in the rose patch in the garden, or some songs she liked; but so much was far more important, and worrying: like parts of her studies; she didn't remember why she'd learnt some of the languages she knew, though she could still speak them; there were serious holes in the time she spent studying abroad: in Britain, Greece, Italy, Norway, Germany, France, Ireland, Spain... the black jade dizi flute she has, she doesn't remember who gave it to her, she doesn't even remember her best friend Luka, and those two had been tight since she was ten or eleven! I don't even know what all those memories have in common! Why forget all those things? Why those things and not others? I don't understand and it frustrates me so..."

"There is one other thing bothering me." Captain Rogers commented thoughtfully. "How did Loki know any of it? About your niece's amnesia? And the way he described it 'the hole in your memories, your heart, your very soul'..."

"Do you think he's involved?" Romanoff inquired, contemplating the possibilities.

"Or he might at least know something about it..." Banner suggested. "Do you know anything about this... Thor...?"

It was until then that they all turned to look at the blonde self-acclaimed god of Thunder, the expression on his face was like nothing any of them had ever seen: there was a mix of shock, horror, and something that none of them could fully comprehend.

"Thor..." Phil began, worriedly.

"Nattergalen..." The blonde practically gasped, his pronunciation perfect. "My brother called the Lady Songstress, min nattergalen?"

"Yes, exactly like that." Romanoff nodded. "You know what it means?"

Thor didn't answer, instead turning to look at the brunette former Agent very seriously.

"Is she really the Nightingale?" He asked in an almost hollow tone of voice.

No one understood the significance of the word, but still, Kathryn reacted instinctively to it. Eyes widening radically as she immediately looked, around as if making sure someone, her niece, wasn't there yet, that she hadn't heard...

"Don't ever say that word in my niece's presence." Kathryn practically hissed. "It may be yet another thing I do not understand, but the fact remains that the last time she heard it she went catatonic for an hour, and then had one of the most serious breakdowns she's ever had." Abruptly, she noticed something else. "How do you even know that name anyway?"

"That's what my brother said..." Thor revealed quietly. "The words he spoke, they're in the Old Tongue, you humans know the language as Norse... Min nattergalen, means 'my nightingale'..."

"Only one person that I know of has ever called Silbhé that..." Kathryn stop dead in her tracks, as the truth abruptly dawned on her. "Loki is Luka?! Loki is my niece's best friend, whom she can't remember? And why can't she remember him?!"

"That's what I would like to know too..." A voice called quietly from the entrance.

Everyone in the bridge turned as one to see Silbhé standing right there, she was wearing a light top, dark pants and jacket (with legs and sleeves rolled up several times to leave feet and hands free), she also wore her own flats. Some were surprised to see her blonde hair as perfect as always, in two ponytails (no sign of her having just showered).

"Silbhé!" Kathryn called, alarmed.

The Songstress directed a short, apologetic look at her aunt before turning away from her and focusing completely on the Thunderer; walking towards him with a fluidity no one had ever seen on her outside of a stage.

"Lady Songstress..." Thor murmured quietly, standing before her.

He was uncomfortable, and the young woman before him could sense that, somehow; in the same manner she'd instinctively known Loki's intent before.

"He told me to ask you..." She murmured quietly but with an odd, quiet power, something never before seen. "Said to ask you what happens when one of you makes nice with one of us... But I don't have to ask, do I? It's quite obvious..." She signaled to herself. "This is what happens, this is what happened. He was my friend, and you saw fit to destroy me simply for that friendship..."

"We didn't..." Thor began.

"Then what do you call ripping years of memories from someone's mind?!" Silbhé demanded hotly. "What do you call forcing your way into someone's head and taking away what does not belong to you? And while, for obvious reasons, I do not remember it, I'm quite sure I wasn't alright with you stealing my memories like that!"

"You did not fight..." Thor murmured quietly.

"What...?" The gasp was general from everyone in the room.

"I will not deny what was done." The god told her. "But we did not force you..."

"Because she would have managed much if she'd fought..." Romanoff scoffed.

"True." Silbhé shrugged. "I doubt you cared much. After all, I'm but a little mortal girl..."

"There is nothing wrong with being mortal..." Thor began.

"Well I'm quite sure I did not give my permission for you to violate my mind!" Silbhé snarled. "I'm also sure you've cared little about what your actions might have cost me... you destroyed me!" She did not allow him to say anything. "Have you any idea, what it feels like to wake up at one point and feel like a part of your life is gone?! To know there are pieces of your memories, pieces of you, missing, and you have no idea where they've gone, or why they're even gone?" She pulled the black jade flute out of the jacket's inner pocket. "I have this, I have no idea who gave it to me, or why, not even why I love it so much... I just know I do, and when I play it I feel peace... and when I sing... it's like my heart is screaming out things my mind cannot recall anymore. When you, your people did what you did three years ago, you took more than just the memories, you took everything that was connected to them, my knowledge, my feelings..." A tear fell down her cheek. "Many times, reporters all around the world have asked me why my smiles never reached my eyes, and I refused to answer. How could I ever tell them I did not even know what happiness was supposed to feel like?" She pointed at Thor. "That's what you did to me. You not only stole pieces of my mind, but also of my heart, of my very soul... you destroyed me..." She was fully crying by then. "This is what I am now... this broken shell of what I could be. And why? Because Loki chose to be my friend? What, in the name of everything that's sacred, is so wrong about two people choosing to be friends?!"

"There's nothing wrong about friendship..." Thor told the girl quietly, brushing tears off her face. "But a millennia ago, in the aftermath of the last inter-dimensional war, Odin Allfather declared that, while Midgard would always be under our protection, we were not to interfere in the lives of mortals, not for anything..."

"What kind of interference can friendship be?" Hill inquired, confused.

"I do not know." Thor admitted with a small shrug. "To be honest, at the time I didn't even think about it. The law was the law. It was discovered that Loki was too close with a human, one who knew the truth about him, and that wasn't how things were supposed to be. The Allfather declared her memories had to be taken, and that was that..."

"That was that?!" Kathryn hissed, slapping the table. "You decide to tear my niece's mind into pieces and 'that's that'?! What kind of people are you?! What gives you the right to play with our minds, our lives, as if we were nothing more than your toys?!"

The silence that followed was thick and full of tension. For several long minutes not a word was said, though Kathryn's fury was obvious, and echoed in most of the people in the room; Thor, however, managed to ignore it all, focusing on no one but the girl before him.

"There is one thing that doesn't fit." He told her quietly.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was hollow, tired.

"I was there when your memories were taken..." He revealed quietly, stopping the young woman before she could cry out again. "Father believed that if Loki tried to stop the sentence from being fulfilled, I was the only one who would have the power to stop him... and yet, he didn't fight it, and neither did you. I don't know why, I honestly was expecting him to at least try." He shook his head. "I will never forget the moment the mage took your memories, the way you collapsed, or how Loki held you afterwards, until I forced him to let go, when we left... however, when I talked to the mage, he said that there had been very few memories, and none too strong. He believed that, even if the memories hadn't been taken, you would have forgotten Loki eventually; he was also very confident that you wouldn't even notice there were memories missing..."

"But I did!" Silbhé finally interrupted him. "How could I not? There are holes in my memory spanning six years in my life! Some pretty big! How could losing those many memories not affect me? How could you consider that as little..."

The girl's mouth closed wth an almost audible snap, as her own words echoed in the back of her mind, repeating over and over again:

" _Logic would dictate then that you are a decent strategist at the very least, though I'm quite sure you're much better than that... much better than that..."_

Silbhé surrendered to instinct as she spun around, slapping Thor's hands away when he tried to hold her and ignoring everyone as she dashed out of the bridge and down the hall. She had no idea where she was going, hadn't exactly paid much attention the last time... but she could still feel, deep inside, like some kind of connection, pulling her in the right direction.

Everyone in the bridge just watched her go in shock, no idea whatsoever where she might be going, or what might be on her mind; except maybe one person, the one who knew her better than anyone else. And all she did was sit in her place, waiting in silence...

**xXx Nightingale's POV xXx**

I kept tripping and slipping as I ran (I'd never been very good at running) especially when I tried cutting corners; but I did not care, in that moment I cared about nothing except reaching the cell, the glass cage where the God of Mischief awaited.

When I finally reached the right door I was half-aware of the fact that there were several guards standing right outside, and none of them were looking at me, as if they couldn't see me... I chose to ignore them, slipping inside the room and locking it behind me, before spinning around once more to face the 'prisoner'. He was standing in the very center of his cage, in an almost martial stance, staring straight at me...

"You're a strategist..." I whispered, breathless.

"Yes..." He nodded, waiting.

"Thor says I didn't fight when my memories were taken..." I said next.

"Yes..." His voice almost sounded pained as he confirmed that.

"And you're a very good strategist." I insisted.

"The point being..." He seemed even more anxious than I in that moment.

"I am not stupid, the only reason I wouldn't fight is if I had a plan, if I knew there was still a way to win, a hidden ace..." I began rambling, before cutting myself off.

I walked in silence until I stood right in front of the cage, open palm pressed to the glass.

"You have my memories." It was not a question, and we both knew it. "And I want them back."

"You had but to ask..." He whispered.

In an instant his hand was holding mine and I was pulled inside the cage, as if the glass wasn't there, had never been there. For an instant I panicked, until I decided it simply didn't matter, there were others, far more important things to focus on.

Loki didn't wait a single second more than absolutely necessary, the moment I was fully inside the cage with him he pressed our foreheads together, and the world around me disappeared.


	2. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How exactly did Loki end up with Nightingale's memories? 
> 
> And what about the upcoming invasion? 
> 
> The cameos are coming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like Sif I'm very sorry, but I'm pretty much making her a bitch in this one. Not even sure why, it just came out that way. 
> 
> You might find a certain lack-of-love for the Avengers, I hope Nightingale explains well-enough why she takes that attitude, if not I'll explain more later on. 
> 
> Also, if you can find the allusion to a certain romance/sci-fi book, I will give you virtual cookies! 
> 
> I also would like to remind everyone that I have my own version of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s foundation and origins for the Nightingale verse (which won't fully fit with what's been revealed in the MCU). 
> 
> The mix with X-Men begins here, I mostly follow cannon concerning all movies, except for where it comes to the pairings I've chosen to use: mainly Rogue/Wolverine and mention of Cherik.

**Shadows**

Some nights I would dream I had other company than just my own shadow...

I once read a phrase in a book: "It would start with the end..." In that moment I didn't actually remember what that phrase had been alluding to, wasn't even sure it actually fit my situation, but it was still the first thing that came to mind as my senses returned to me and I found myself in the middle of my bedroom, in Salani Manor, in Maine... I might have begun to think I was dreaming, either that or everything else connected to Stuttgart, the helicarrier, S.H.I.E.L.D. was the dream... when I noticed Loki pacing before the window to the garden, he'd just stopped and sat down at the window seat, and I was about to call out to him, when the bedroom door opened and I saw none other than myself, my seventeen-year-old self, entering the room, a tray with two cups of tea and a couple of chocolate-chip cookies on a plate.

In a second I knew what night that was, the one I could only remember half of: I had taken that tray wth me to my bedroom after watching the latest episode of Criminal Minds with my aunt; it wasn't a midnight snack, per say, but a late snack I was planning on sharing with Loki, as we did every so often...

The moment my younger self noticed Loki was already there she smiled, so brightly I felt a pang inside my chest... I'd never smiled like that, I'd never felt that kind of joy, and for something so relatively simple as someone's presence.

It was strange, watching a memory from a different perspective; even more so when Loki, a second Loki, materialized beside me. I knew, instinctively that he was the one from my time, and we were in his memory.

"What is this?" I asked him.

"You have been able to deduce that I have your memories." He told me quietly before turning to face the scene before us. "This will let you know how that came to be..."

I nodded, turning my full attention to the memory playing before us.

" _Loki!" The seventeen-year old auburn haired girl called brightly. "You're here early..."_

_Her voice broke off and her smile vanished as she noticed the too-solemn expression on her best friend's face. She knew something was wrong._

" _The Allfather has found out about you..." Loki revealed in a rush. "I have no idea how this happened. I've been so careful! You were occluded, and I made sure to always use the Shadow Paths when coming to Earth... I have no idea what I did wrong, how we could have been discovered, it shouldn't have happened!"_

" _I take it he doesn't agree with our friendship..." She tried to smile, but her eyes were sad. "When are they coming for me? Will they hurt Aunt Kathryn...?"_

" _No, they will not hurt Kathryn, she knows nothing except for my fake human name, she's never even seen me, so she's in no danger." Loki reassured her. "And about coming for you... they're coming tomorrow, but they don't want you, per say..."_

" _I don't understand..." She truly didn't._

" _The law states that we are not to interfere in the lives of mortals." Loki said in a blank tone. "So every sign of interference will be taken away..."_

_It was quite obvious, by the expression on the girl's face, the moment she understood what that meant. There was confusion, then shock, horror, and finally resignation._

" _They're coming for my memories..." She nodded, letting out a breath._

_Suddenly, something else seemed to occur to her, as she reached with her left hand for the golden engraved bracelet on her right wrist._

" _Will they take this too?" She asked quietly._

" _They don't know it exists, and they cannot see it unless we allow it." He reminded her. "And even if they knew I wouldn't allow it. I would die first..."_

" _That doesn't seem right." She shook her head in denial. "My life is not worth yours Loki."_

" _It is, worth that and so much more... if there were any way I could stop this from happening... but I don't know how, I don't even know how we were found!"_

" _Maybe we aren't supposed to, maybe it's simply something that was meant to happen sooner or later." She sighed. "Most secrets cannot be kept as such forever..."_

" _Not forever, just long enough for me to find a way to keep you safe." He shook his head derisively. "I suppose it's useless to talk about such things now."_

_He made a violent motion in the air, furious at himself; he felt so impotent, not being able to help her, protect her, to change their situation any..._

" _It's alright, my friend..." She whispered quietly as she took his hand in hers._

" _No, it's not." He insisted, still letting her hold him, it made him feel a bit better. "If I knew we stood a chance I would take you right now, we would run away. I would take you anywhere on this realm, or even another, to keep you safe..."_

" _We cannot spend the rest of our lives running..." She said quietly, raising a hand to caress his cheek. "It's not right. Besides, a life constantly hiding and running is hardly any life at all. And you deserve much better than that."_

" _So do you, you deserve everything I could ever give you, and far better than what the Allfather has decreed for you." He practically snarled the last part._

" _We must believe things happen for a reason, both the good and the bad." She insisted._

_He didn't seem to agree, but he still chose not to contradict her; he realized there was no point, ranting and raving wouldn't change their situation any..._

" _You know, I always knew it might come to this." She revealed unexpectedly._

" _What...?!" He wasn't expecting that._

" _What you said, about Odin declaring there was to be no interference from the Aesir in the lives of mortals, I read about it somewhere, long before I began to truly study mythology." She explained calmly. "I knew us being friends, if we were to ever be discovered, would have its consequences. And I didn't care. I decided that being your friend was well worth any and all risks and possible dangers there might be."_

" _I'm not worth..."_

" _Sh..." She placed a finger on his lips, stopping his self-recrimination. "You are worth anything and everything I have and could ever have. No matter what happens tomorrow, or at any point during the rest of my life, I will never regret the last six years..."_

" _No you won't... you won't even remember most of it! Certainly nothing that has to do with me." He practically hissed._

" _I won't lie to you, I do wish there was a way..." The hazel-eyed admitted quietly. "Some way we could, I don't know, make them think they had taken all the memories, and later I could retrieve them somehow... someway I could hide at least some of those memories from them... but I am not a telepath, I cannot do that kind of thing..."_

_Abruptly, Loki's expression changed dramatically, all the tension left his body and it was as if some new energy were filling him._

" _There is a way..." He practically gasped._

" _What...?" She had no idea what he meant._

" _You might not be a telepath, but I am a Sorcerer, one of the best in all the realms..." He reminded her brightly. "I can protect your memories..."_

An agreement was reached after that. Apparently we had decided he would take all but the most irrelevant of memories (something had to be left for the Allfather's mage to find, otherwise it would be too suspicious).

The whole exercise of extracting the memories (carefully enough so I wouldn't be hurt and so the mage wouldn't notice there were holes already) took most of the night; the last memory, the one of their plan being made, would be extracted by Loki right before the mages acted; it was one the mage defiantly couldn't find, it would have been disastrous, and yet it would also be dangerous if I forgot too soon, as I wouldn't be ready. And then Loki left. He was supposed to be in his chambers, 'reflecting on his faults'.

That evening I had an early dinner after hearing my aunt's message in the answering machine (I had been taking a bath when she called), simple cold-cut sandwiches as I couldn't stomach anything more substantial. I was so completely nervous about what was coming, yet I also knew I had to be very careful so no one would notice I'd been forewarned about anything. So after dinner I forced myself to relax as much as I possibly could, as I sat on my window-seat with a book in my hands (I couldn't focus enough to actually read it, but it was enough to present a relaxed image). And that's how the Asgardian entourage found me almost an hour later.

_The book slipped from the girl's hands as a flash of light announced the abrupt arrival of half a dozen individuals. One was Loki, obviously: the second, a blonde in red and steel armor was Thor, an old man in brown robes had to be the mage (he just screamed wizard), and with him was a young boy in similar attire, apparently an apprentice of some sort; the last two fit the description Loki had given the girl more than once of two of Thor's friends: Sif and Hogun. Three warriors and two mages to force one small mortal girl to give up her memories? It seemed both ridiculous and hilarious, it's not like Silbhé could fight them! Unless they expected Loki to be the one to fight... of course, what none of them knew was that there was already a plan, one that did not have them fighting desperate, useless, battles._

" _I was promised the chance to say goodbye..." Loki reminded his brother._

" _I don't see what's the point." Sif said in a derisive tone. "It's not like she will remember this, or anything really, after we're done."_

" _She won't..." Loki nodded quietly. "But I will..."_

" _Go..." Thor motioned his brother forward._

_There was something in the Thunderer's eyes, as if a part of him wasn't completely sure about what they were there to do; but in the end he said and did nothing; his only favor to his brother being to allow him his goodbyes..._

" _Loki...?" Silbhé asked, making her best to act as confused and scared as she was supposed to be in that moment, looking at everyone in her room._

" _Oh Nightingale..." The green-eyed man dropped to his knees before her. "I'm so, so sorry..."_

_The moment he pressed his face into her neck she did the same; the motion allowing both of them to drop their facades for the most part. Still, she could feel that he was still trembling, and deep inside, so was she._

" _So, this is it, then..." Silbhé whispered quietly, fighting to keep the quiver off her voice._

" _I'm so sorry..." He began once again._

" _Sh..." She whispered with a last smile, as bright as she could make it for him. "Whatever happens next, when you think about me, remember me like this... and remember this too, my Maverick. I will never, ever regret anything. Even if I may forget. Regrets are for those who know not their own minds and hearts anyway..."_

_And because she truly believed what she'd just said, she made a split decision right then, to do the one thing she'd been thinking about doing for a while but had never dared. She'd been most angry at herself for not doing it that morning, before he'd had to leave... and there it was, what was probably her last chance. So the girl threw herself at him, kissing him full on the mouth. And he answered the kiss with the same mix of enthusiasm and desperation._

_Behind them the others just watched with a myriad of feelings showing on their faces: the mages were indifferent, Hogun remained mostly neutral, there was growing apprehension in Thor, and more than a hint of disdain in Sif._

_Eventually the kiss broke, and as they separated Loki brushed a couple of fingers over her temple, silently taking two more memories... it was just supposed to be one, but there was no way he would allow the mage to have that kiss..._

_The motion had also carried a mild sedative-spell, just enough so the teenager wouldn't react to the sudden loss of the one memory that had kept her focused until then. So no one would know anything (everything) had changed; it had been part of the agreement, so Loki didn't have to feel bad about anything. He still couldn't help the way his whole body tensed drastically the moment the mage pressed his open palms each on a side of Silbhé's head._

_Thor had a hand on Loki's shoulder, as if ready to bodily restrain him were the Sorcerer to decide to fight back after all; Sif had a hand on her blade, while Hogun just watched everything quietly._

_Eventually it was over. The moment the mage stepped back Silbhé's eyes closed and her body went limp. In a fraction of a second Loki disappeared from where he'd been, reappearing on a knee beside the window-seat, Silbhé's unconscious form secure in his arms._

_Sif's reaction was instantaneous as she drew her blade and prepared to fight, however, Thor stopped her, being the first to notice what Loki had truly done. For a while he just watched his brother, kneeling on the off-white carpet, holding the small body of the mortal girl who'd called him friend, who'd probably been more, or at least on the edge of being more, judging by the way she'd kissed him... the girl who'd forgotten him or that she'd ever known him..._

_Eventually Thor could let it go no longer, they had to leave. Loki didn't protest, he simply got on his feet slowly, the girl still in his arms, and he carefully laid her in the very center of her bed, taking a moment to place a last kiss on the corner of her lips._

" _I will never forget..." He promised to her unhearing ears._

Dozens, hundreds, possibly even a thousand memories more followed those. Though they were not as strong or disconcerting as the first (or last, depending on opinion); it wasn't like they were truly new things invading my head, but my own memories fitting themselves, one by one, where they belonged, slowly filling the holes that had existed in my head.

Some holes weren't fully filled, those were the small, inconsequential memories I'd been left with after the plan had been made; the memories the mage had actually found, stolen, and most likely destroyed. Still, it was like Thor had said, they were small, unimportant memories; I would probably forget there were any holes there sooner or later.

Slowly I opened my eyes, finding myself back in the center of the glass cage, in some hidden corner of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier. I was on my knees, cradled against Loki's own body, who was half-kneeling, half-crouching, and holding me against his body tightly enough I knew if it weren't absolutely necessary he would never let go...

"My Maverick..." I murmured as I raised my hazel eyes to meet his jade ones.

My voice sounded almost alien to my own ears, a tone I hadn't heard coming from my own throat it what seemed like forever... except I had, many times, times I hadn't been able to remember until right then...

"My Nightingale..." He whisperer back.

The expression in his eyes... it was all the signal I needed, as I forced my knees to hold me enough so I could reach his lips, capture them with mine, in a kiss very much like the first and last one we'd shared before we'd been pretty much ripped apart by that mage and Odin's orders... it held the same intensity, the same passion and boundless love. However, as our minds caught up with us, with the fact that we were back together, the desperation gave way to tenderness, and a whole different level of intensity. The kiss didn't end, it just became softer, more languid; and even when we finally broke up for air we kept our faces as close as possible, breathing together, pretty much breathing each other, our presence, happiness, love...

Eventually we managed to relax enough to separate, not much, just enough so we were both sitting in the middle of the glass cage. We were still holding hands, actually caressing each other's palms, as if in continuous reassurance that we were together again. I was quite sure that if anyone had arrived, tried to separate us right then, we both would have fought them to our last breaths; and I was sure that when, eventually, Odin tried, it would be the same.

"So..." I murmured at some point.

My head was still spinning, somewhat, and I could feel my mood, to the most basic level, shifting as I kept adjusting to my new/old memories, to my recovered truth. I felt perfect in that moment, complete for the first time in three years (though for me it had seemed like much longer, forever even). And yet, I couldn't forget that the circumstances that had brought us back together weren't precisely the best ones... However, before I could voice a question about that, the connection that still held between us brought my attention to an old memory of mine, an outing Aunt Kathryn had insisted on, to a Restaurant-Bar-Karaoke in Portland...

"You were there!" I cried out suddenly.

"What...?" It took him a couple of seconds to catch up with what I was thinking.

"In Portland, that night..." Realization came to me piece by piece. "You're the reason why I decided to sing that night, and especially that song..."

"It was one of the few times I'd managed to escape from the hounds in Asgard, some of them were just waiting for me to make a mistake so they could ruin me further." Loki muttered angrily. "I'm quite sure at least Sif was waiting for me to come back to you. There were times when I would find her spying on you..."

I startled; and yet, as I looked over some of my memories of the last three years I began noticing a pattern, she had been there...

"I remember her." I nodded. "I saw her many times, though I had no idea who she might be, always thought she was maybe a fan... even though she never approached me. There was a part of me that never liked there... seems fair considering she's never liked me."

"It's nothing against you." He assured me. "It's me she doesn't like. And with our friendship... you became means to an end."

"I hate that." I told him honestly. "I hate that we humans mean so little to your people." I stopped him before he could talk. "I know you're different. And your brother... I don't know what to think about him. He didn't seem like a bad man the last few days... and yet I'll never forget that he was there that night, when my life was destroyed, and he did nothing to help us... to help you..."

"I think he tried, afterwards." Loki huffed. "But I never forgave him for his callousness regarding you. He was the heir, he could have helped me protect you. Instead he was just there to hold me back, take me down if I were to try and fight for you..."

"He doesn't understand... or at least he didn't back then." I pondered on that. "I heard someone mention a woman... a Dr. Foster...?"

"Jane Foster, she's a scientist, astrophysicist, I think." He explained to me. "Her studies have made it so she's gained a great knowledge of the Bifrost, and other realms, she probably knows more about them than even some scholars in Asgard... Thor... he holds her in high regard, I suppose. Though I cannot assure you he would react any different with her, than he did with you, if the Allfather were to order her memories to be taken as well. As it stands, she knows a lot already, and her memories are still her own." He shook his head. "Though that could be merely because the destruction of the Rainbow Bridge has made it impossible for the Allfather to send his mages after her, thus far."

"I still don't understand why..." I admitted quietly. "I mean really, what's so wrong about the two of us being friends? I know what Odin said about no undue influence, but, really, friendship? What could possibly be so wrong about that?"

"I honestly know not, my Nightingale. Though, come what may, I'm not letting you go again... no matter what Odin might do or say, who he might send after me, after us, I'm not letting you go again, never ever..."

"I don't want you to let me go. The last three years... they've been horrible..."

"I know. I watched you go through them. I watched you go through life like those creatures your young writers seem so obsessed with: zombies..."

"I felt like one. Like I was just moving through life, with no path, no purpose. I had no reason for living, not really, yet I was too afraid to just die... I think that if I hadn't had Aunt Kathryn, and my singing, I would have simply lied down and let go..."

"No!" He held my face gently but strongly in his hands. "Whatever might happen, never, ever let go. You hear me? I don't know what I would do without you... my nightingale..."

"Did you know that one time, a reporter called me that?" I smiled almost cynically right then. "The shock the mere word sent through my system... I went catatonic, completely unresponsive for a while; was depressed for some time. Afterwards Aunt Kathryn made it an order that no one was to say that word around me, ever; I think she was terrified it might be worse the next time. I did not even know what was wrong with it, I just couldn't hear it..."

"When we agreed to let things be I never imagined they would be this bad... to see the emptiness in your eyes... it was the worst punishment. More than once I considered throwing it all away, simply going to you, giving you back your memories. But then I would be afraid, what would they do to you if I did that? Would the Allfather order your memories to be taken again, this time without giving me a chance to save them first? Or would he order your death? It was that thought which stopped me from doing something insane. Then again, we're here now anyway, so..."

"Yes, we're here now... and I'm alive. And I plan on staying that way for some time yet."

I had no idea what chance I might stand against the 'king of the gods' but that wouldn't stop me from trying. Loki could feel my thoughts growing darker, and decide to change the topic a bit.

"We were talking about that night in Portland, two years ago." He reminded me. "Yes, I was there. I was following you from a distance, worried about you. You were so pale, and thin, almost sickly so... it made me feel better to see you out. And then I saw that the place your aunt had taken you to, had a Karaoke... when I saw that song in the list, 'Echo', I remembered back when you were fourteen, how much you loved that song, how you insisted it was about me..." He sighed. "In that moment I wanted nothing more than to hear it from you, so yes, I influenced you a tiny bit, just enough that you decided to give singing a try... it was the one thing I'd missed the most about you since we were forced apart, your voice singing to me... so I sat there, hearing you sing, imagining you meant the song for me." He took a deep breath, clearing his mind. "I never expected you to become a singer, though... Songstress..."

"I would still rather you call me Nightingale." I told him with a smile. "To those people, the fans, I am the Songstress, that's all I'll ever be. A figure, an object... to you, for you, I am more. All I am and can be... your Nightingale..."

"My Nightingale..." He repeated, kissing me once more. "Your Maverick..."

"My Maverick..." I agreed.

For a few seconds we just sat there, in peaceful silence; until I decided there was so much that needed to be said still...

"I was singing for you, you know?" I told him softly. "Every time. My head might not have remembered you, but my heart knew the singing was important. I knew, instinctively, that I needed to sing, to give my all every time I did... when I saw you in Stuttgart... the song I played and sang that night, I'd never performed it before, never dared. But the moment I saw you on that second floor, I just couldn't help myself, I had to sing that... It was all for you."

"It was a beautiful song..." He nodded. "Then again, any song coming from your lips is beautiful to me, always has been, always will be."

"So..." I let out a breath, it was time to talk about the hard things. "We've talked about what happened three years ago, and about that night two years ago that pushed me into becoming a singer... that still doesn't explain how we've ended up here, right now."

I gestured to the glass cage we were in, though it wasn't really necessary, he knew what I meant. What I wasn't expecting was for him to let go of my hands, get on his feet and walk away from me, to the farthest corner of the limited space.

"Loki...?" I called, feeling unexpected fear.

I knew that he wasn't leaving me, I trusted him; but after everything that had happened... and I could still clearly remember what had been of me the last three years, it wasn't something I was liable to forget anytime soon...

"Everything is such a mess Nightingale..." He murmured.

In silence I got on my feet, walking to him; though I stopped, standing less than a foot from him, allowing him to touch me if he wanted, but not pressuring him.

"Tell me, my Maverick..." I whispered softly. "You know you can always trust me. No matter what, I will stand by you. Always."

He let out a sigh, and I could feel inside, through that bond that connected us in a corner of my being, a corner I'd somehow forgot even existed in the last three years, I could feel a mix of sadness and resignation; whatever he was about to say, to reveal to me, he was already so sure of the outcome, and that it wouldn't be a good one. He walked away from me again, to the opposite side of the cell, going as far as raising a hand in my direction to stop me from following.

"I am a Monster..." He announced instantly.

Before I could even open my mouth to begin with the denials, he shifted. The alabaster tone of his skin rippled, changing into a cobalt blue, decorated with darker lines and swirls, almost like tribal marks or tattoos of some kind. I could also feel the moment the temperature went down several degrees, goosebumps raised on my skin.

"I am not the son of Odin, or Frigg, or Thor's brother." He told me in a calm, almost emotionless, voice. "I am actually the son of Laufey, the King... or more like former King of Jotunheim." He closed his eyes. "I am a Jotun, and as such, a monster..."

I wanted to scream my denials straight out, but just by the echo of his own emotions that I could still sense inside me, I knew it wouldn't be enough. So I chose a different approach:

"You know, I may not be truly the daughter of Kathryn Salani, but I love her as if she were my mom... she's the only mother I truly remember, my memories of Aislinn Kinross-Salani being too few and vague; and in the last three years she's done so much for me, more than my father, and he doesn't have the excuse of being dead for his absence." I knew I was going down a tangent and shook my head to clear my line of thought. "The point is, even if Queen Frigg didn't give birth to you, that doesn't make her any less of a mother, your mother. I know you love her as such, and that she's always been there for you. Odin is a whole other matter, we both know that, but Frigg is as much your mother now as she's always been..."

"Why would she want a monster for a son?" He asked in a self-deprecating tone.

"You Are Not A Monster." I put as much power in each word as I could, waving my hand wildly at him when he tried to insist. "No. You will listen to me, Loki Friggson. I do not care if you're a giant, a dwarf, an elf or even a hobbit! Whatever color you might be, whatever temperature, It Matters Not!" I took a deep breath. "Let me put it this way. Frigg knew, right? She knew what you were, and she still chose to keep you, called you her son. And for the last millennia she has loved you as much as any mother loves her son, as much as she has loved Thor. I know this because you told me, we talked about this years ago, about how she was the only true parent you had. She taught you magic, and guided you in diplomacy and history, and everything else you wanted to learn. You told me once she was the one person you loved the most in the universe... this," I signaled to his body. "It changes nothing for her, because she already knew. So why should it change anything for you? It's not like you can decide things for her. She still loves you, that's for sure. Or will you tell me you love her any less?"

"Of course not!" He didn't like the insinuation. "I will always love her, you know that. Yet that changes nothing, I still am what I am, a..."

"Jotun, Frost Giant, and according to you, a Monster." I enlisted for him. "And while I will agree that some of them might be monsters, Laufey certainly, and all those who were part of the last War because they wanted rather than because they were ordered to... I'm sure that's not true for all of them." I was reaching blindly, trying to find a way to make him understand. "That would be like saying that all humans are monsters because of what a few criminals, killers, and kidnappers and tortures have done. That's not a matter of race, but of individuals."

He went to speak and I decided I needed to be more proactive, so I went to him, and before he could stop me I took his hand, holding it between both of mine. For a moment it looked like he would pull back, flee; and then he just stared...

"Your skin may be a different color, and a different temperature, but I can still see you behind those details." I raised one of my hands to touch a side of his face. "It's still you..."

He didn't reply to my words, and for a moment I thought he wasn't paying attention, when finally opened his mouth and spoke again.

"My touch didn't burn you..." He murmured, marveled.

He moved the hand I was still half-holding, tracing a finger over my palms, I could feel the goosebumps on my skin due to the coldness of his touch, but otherwise nothing happened. Then he turned his face just enough that my fingers were touching his lips, he raised his free hand to hold mine and kiss my fingers.

"Of course you're not burning me." I half-scoffed half-gasped in shock. "You could never hurt me Loki, it's just... you couldn't."

"I am a Jotun, whatever your personal opinion might be, and it's known that the touch of a Frost Giant burns, like a sort of extreme frostbite. I've seen Asgardian Warriors with such burns, what their touch could do to a human is something I cannot even begin to contemplate..." He seemed to ponder on that. "Or maybe the same thing that made me too small to be a normal Frost Giant, also made it so I cannot burn...?"

"I don't think that's it." I told him thoughtfully. "Maybe you need to want to hurt others? Or maybe it's just our bonds...?"

He nodded, then shrugged, apparently deciding not to dwell too much on the matter.

"I may talk until I lose my voice, and it might never be enough to convince you." I told him with a resigned sigh. "Regardless of what I say, as long as you believe yourself to be a monster, nothing I say will change your mind... and I hate that, but I don't know what else to do. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You are so distant from what I would consider a monster." I shook my head. "I stand by what I said the other day, when I didn't yet have my memories; you might not be an angel, but you aren't a demon either... And if you still don't believe me, consider this: Would a demon, a monster have saved my life? The life of a weak, sickly child who was already on her deathbed? Would a monster have gone through the bother of protecting the precious memories of a girl who called him friend, and then make sure to look after her even when she no longer remembers him? Would that girl love a monster? Do you think I could love you as much as I do, as deeply and absolutely, if you were truly a monster?"

"You're too good to do something so stupid..." He admitted in a broken voice.

"As are you..." I whispered back.

A second later we were kissing again.

Eventually we calmed down again, Loki's skin went back to its usual alabaster and we got comfortable; this time with him sitting against the glass wall, while I sat curled up between his legs, my back against his chest and his arms around me.

"So, now will you tell me what exactly happened that ended with you... and technically us, inside this glass cage?" I inquired.

"I can tell you, my Nightingale, that you were right in assuming the chitauri invasion is the least of two evils." Loki admitted. "The major one being the Mad Titan coming after the Tesseract, and the Mind Gem in my scepter, himself."

"Mad Titan..." I repeated slowly. "The first part of the title seems bad enough, but the second... are we talking about an honest, true Titan? Greek style?"

"Considering that he lives in the abyss, where there should be no life, and that he has enough of an interest in the Infinity Stones he's getting ready to invade Asgard to steal the Gauntlet and the remaining stones from Odin's Weapon's Vault..." He left the rest hanging.

"Ok, that's definitely bad." I nodded. "Am I to assume he came to Earth first to get the Tesseract and the gem in that staff you were carrying?"

"Yes." He nodded.

It occurred to me then.

"You're trying to get the would-be-heroes in this realm to stop the chitauri before the Titan can mount his attack on Asgard." I realized then.

"To a point." Loki admitted.

"I thought Asgard was a realm of Warriors..." I commented, confused.

"Considering that, according to their own history, Titans don't even exist... I wouldn't place much hope on them." Loki deadpanned. "There's also the fact that he was already coming on his way here, to get the Tesseract. My becoming the, lieutenant, so to speak, of his army, was simply convenient to us both."

"Your act in Stuttgart, and before that on the base, you're provoking S.H.I.E.L.D. so they will stop the coming army."

"The Titan is less likely to risk an attack on Asgard without an army." Loki nodded. "I may hate Odin for all he's lied to me, and for many other things... but the mere idea of a creature like him anywhere near Mother, or the few friends I do have in the Realm Eternal..."

I nodded, it was perfectly natural for him to want to protect those he cared for.

"Do you think the pseudo-heroes stand a chance against them?" I asked, worried.

"Maybe against the chitauri, if they make a good enough effort, and don't get in each other's way; otherwise they might just end up killing each other instead." He said, perfectly honest.

"They are not a team." I nodded with a sigh. "They... they are Warriors, but they're all either too used to doing the job solo, or following orders, like little soldiers. And we need neither of those. We need a team..."

"It would seem like you have someone in mind." He observed.

I did, however, before I got a chance to answer, the helicarrier as a whole shook violently. Loki held me tightly, protectively, and I couldn't help it as a curse in Gaelic left my lips.

"They're here." He muttered.

In seconds he was on his feet, pulling me along.

"They?" I repeated, confused. "Who are they?"

"The men I took over with the Mind Gem." He told me honestly. "They shouldn't be here yet. I haven't called on them..."

"Which means someone else has..." I realized at the same time he did.

We could both hear the sounds of fighting outside the room with the glass cage. There were impacts, and shooting. I was terrified, yet not for myself, I knew that even if Loki had pretty much 'stayed put' for the last few days, he was still capable of getting out at any given moment, and protecting us both quite easily. No, I was worried about Aunt Kathryn. The only thing that managed to keep me somewhat under control was the constant reminder that she had been a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent herself, which meant she knew how to fight; and if she was still on the bridge, which I expected, there were enough people with her, who would help her if necessary.

My line of thought was abruptly interrupted when the door opened and an Agent entered. When he approached the control panel I thought he might be trying to get us out; after all, if Fury had been eavesdropping on our exchange (which I did not doubt) he must know already Loki wasn't his enemy; or maybe he just wanted to 'secure the prisoner' if they believed the attackers were there to get my beloved back. What I could have never expected was when a hole underneath our prison opened at his press of a button.

"What...?" I was shocked.

The Agent turned to look at us right then, an almost sadistic smile on his face, his eyes bright and piercing; and then he punched the button.

I didn't get the chance to say a word, I was too shocked. I felt a pair of arms wound tightly around my slight form, as his bigger one curled around me protectively. I could only close my eyes and pray we wouldn't die, not when I'd just found my love... life couldn't be that cruel, could it? I did not know, in the next second I couldn't think anymore, all I knew was that we were falling, hard, fast, and from very high... we just kept falling and falling...

**xXx**   **Kathryn's POV xXx**

When Silbhé rushed out of the bridge I did not try to stop her. I was still pretty focused on what she and Thor had been talking about. While I might not hold him in the highest esteem, due to his indirect responsibility in what had happened to my niece, his insistence that the memories that had been taken from her weren't that many and shouldn't have affected, resonated with me.

I knew, better than anyone except Silbhé herself, how the missing memories affected her, and I also knew better than most just how many 'holes' there were in her mind. The later not because of myself, precisely, but three or so months after it'd all begun I'd grown desperate enough to be willing to try anything, including contacting the very kind of individuals S.H.I.E.L.D. rejected on principle: mutants. In the end I'd found out that there was nothing I, or even he, could do to change Silbhé's condition, though at least we had a better understanding of it; I also learnt that mutants were no monsters, and if there was a problem between the government and them, it was pretty much the government's fault (which actually wasn't that surprising).

While Silbhé and I hadn't stayed in Westchester for long, the Professor was kind enough to help my niece learn how to function around the huge holes in her memories, which extended to holes in her feelings, general knowledge and even the way she connected to people. Even his partner, and several other people approached us, befriended us. In the end we didn't stay, as neither of us was a mutant there really was no reason to. Though we'd gone back to visit a few times, Silbhé had found a very dear friend in a young mutant called Rogue and while her lover (or as he insisted on calling them, mates) left a lot to be desired where manners were concerned, in the end he was a good man too. On the most recent visit Silbhé had even sung, nothing formal, or planned; it had begun as a way to entertain the youngest children in the Institute, though by the end of it everyone was as close as they could be and listening attentively.

That visit was the last time I'd seen her relax any... it had been nice. I couldn't help but think that maybe once the whole mess with S.H.I.E.L.D. was over we could go back for a vacation of sorts... that was, if the world didn't fall to pieces by then.

I was completely derailed from my line of thought when suddenly there were exclamations of shock as people began signaling at the screens again. I soon saw why: Silbhé was in Loki's prison, her hand pressed against the crystal cage.

"How the hell did she get that far?!" Maria Hill demanded loudly. "There are supposed to be guards on those doors!"

"There are, ma'am." One of the Agents bellow them told her, a hand on his comm. "No one saw the Songstress. It's as if she were invisible."

"Is she?" Fury turned instantly to me.

"If she were, if she had such an ability, you are the last person I would reveal such a thing to, Nicholas." I told him coldly. "I haven't forgotten the stand S.H.I.E.L.D. has on mutants." He was clever enough to read my implications, the change in my own stand. "But no. If anything made her invisible to your guards, it wasn't Silbhé's doing."

"Loki then." Stark stated, as if it were obvious.

"But why?" Rogers and Banner were quite confused.

As if on cue, Loki pulled Silbhé into the cage with him right then, as if the glass wasn't there at all. The exclamations came immediately. The demonstration showed, quite directly, that the only reason Loki was still in that cell was because he wanted to be, but why...?

The moment my niece collapsed unconscious into Loki's arms I jumped onto my feet, both hands on the table before me, eyes fixed straight on the screen before me; I knew a good number of people were looking at me, probably wondering what I might do next, but I didn't pay them any mind, I was too busy repeating my niece's last words before fainting, over and over again in my mind, the mix of shock and hope they brought:

" _You have my memories." It hadn't been a question. "And I want them back."_

I knew not how long I stood there, waiting. I half-heard Fury order his Agents to stay out of the room and not to intervene. Most people were still watching the screens enraptured, waiting for what might happened next. And yet, when they finally did move, the exchange of names, followed by that kiss, it went far beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

I collapsed back into my chair in shock, the image of Silbhé and the self-acclaimed god, Loki, on their knees in the middle of a glass cage, kissing, burnt into my retinas, as suddenly everything I remembered, everything I knew, took a new meaning.

No one said a word, not even Stark, and I knew very well the kind of humor he could make use of. Even he seemed to realize how pivotal the moment was.

Eventually the kiss broke off and the two sat down on the floor to talk. The range of topics was limited, and all connected, but still quite revealing: from Portland and an outing to a Karaoke bar, to Stuttgart and his choosing to ignore our presence, to family, to the secret hiding beneath the alabaster of Loki's skin...

"Did he just call himself a monster?" Rogers's brow furrowed.

"What's a Jotun?" Dr. Banner inquired next.

"A Frost Giant." Thor answered. "They are the inhabitants of Jotunheim. A race of savage, blood-thirsty monsters... at least that's what we Aesir are taught. They were the cause the last Great War, between our two realms, one that killed thousand of Warriors on both sides and extended to other realms, including Midgard." He let out a breath, shaking his head. "My father defeated them and their King a little over a thousand years ago, taking from them their greatest relic and weapon: the Casket of Ancient Winters... and, as I've since learnt, it was also on that day that he found Loki. A baby, small for a Jotun, abandoned in a half-destroyed temple. Father... I cannot say I know what he might have been thinking, but he took him. Brought him home..."

"And how exactly could he hide that his newest son was... well, blue?" Romanoff seemed as confused about the whole thing as the rest of us.

"Even as a newborn, Loki's instinctive grasp of magic went beyond anything I've ever seen." Thor explained. "He's a shapeshifter. Father said that he changed the color of his skin the moment he was held. For the longest time my brother honestly believed he was an Aesir, that he was as much the son of Odin and Frigg as I was. His discovery about the truth of his parentage... it affected him more than even I was aware of."

"By any chance, did it happen last year?" Phil inquired suddenly. "Around the time the whole mess in New Mexico took place?"

He had an idea in mind, and I could imagine what it was. It wasn't too much to imagine that a breakdown from such a revelation might cause someone to be more than a little irrational, and someone with the power and position Loki possessed? Well, it probably could have been a lot worse than what I knew (mostly through unofficial channels) had happened in Puente Antiguo, New Mexico the year before.

"It might..." Thor nodded, apparently beginning to understand what Phil implied.

We were, mostly quietly, each pondering on the possible implications of that idea when suddenly something else Silbhé said hit me:

" _Would a demon, a monster have saved my life? The life of a weak, sickly child who was already on her deathbed? Would a monster have gone through the bother of protecting the precious memories of a girl who called him friend, and then make sure to look after her even when she no longer remembers him? Would that girl love a monster? Do you think I could love you as much as I do, as deeply and absolutely, if you were truly a monster?"_

The whole speech was enough to make anyone, even someone like Nicholas Fury, stop and think; however, I was mostly focused on the first part... the part about saving a life... I could remember with painful clarity a small, weakened child in a too-big bed, with heavy breathing, knowing that any day she might simply not wake up... he had saved my niece! He had saved her!

"Kathryn...?" Phil called, quietly.

"Oh Phil..." I couldn't keep the almost-whine from my voice. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but Silbhé had cancer... she still does technically. When she was fourteen it got pretty bad, the normal treatment stopped working, and she refused the more extreme ones, she refused to even stay in the hospital. She would spend most of the time in her own room, it was especially bad when she could no longer even go to her garden, she's always loved roses... and when I heard her labored breathing... I spent days, watching her sleep, watching her breathe, knowing there was a very big chance any day she would simply stop, she wouldn't wake up again. And yet..."

"She's still here." Phil reminded me, offering me a hand in understanding.

"Yes, she is." I took the hand with a smile. "Because she was saved..."

I did not say more, but I did not need to; Phil was clever enough, and he'd heard as clearly as I the things my niece had just said. A part of me couldn't help but wonder if Thor understood too, and what it would mean for the whole 'no-interference' law they had. Loki and Silbhé had already promissed to fight to stay together, they wouldn't simply allow for her memories to be taken again (most likely for good, next time); and while we certainly had connections, some pretty good ones, I knew it wouldn't be that simple.

I began paying attention again when the two began talking about Loki's plan. Nightingale had been right that there was something going on beyond Loki's supposed conquest plan. When the Mad Titan was mentioned everyone turned to Thor immediately.

"They call him Thanos." Thor added to Loki's explanation. "He-Who-Courts-Death... he's but a myth! He's supposed to be..."

"Yeah, as are you, Point Break." Stark retorted.

"Tony is right." Dr. Banner nodded. "Taking that into mind it might be prudent to consider every possibility... just in case."

"Even if this Mad Titan isn't actually the one from your myths, or ours, it would be unwise not to prepare." Phil offered. "Especially since we already knew that there was another leader of the chitauri." He turned to address Thor next. "Will your people help, since it would seem they are a target as well?"

"I honestly do not know." Thor seemed deeply bothered by something. "I already told you that Midgard is under Asgard's protection; it is for that very reason that I am here. However, the circumstances are unfavorable. With the Rainbow Bridge broken and the Hidden Roads known but to a few..."

He broke off then, but at least two of us noticed that he was hesitating about saying something else. In the end, there was no chance, as right then a loud explosion took place, hard enough to shake the entire helicarrier.

"What the hell was that?!" Several people demanded at the same time.

"Everyone, to your stations!" Fury snapped as soon as he regained his footing.

The reaction was instantaneous as everyone rushed to their posts.

"Kathryn!" I heard Phil call. "Think fast."

I reacted instinctively, old training kicking in as my hand shot out automatically to catch the gun Phil had thrown at me, and then the couple of magazines, before I even reasoned something had been thrown at all.

The fight was almost as much of a rush as the ones from decades before had been, even with how much time I'd spent as a civilian... or maybe precisely because of that. Still, with my lack of practice I wasn't fully confident in my skills, so I mostly stayed out of the way; except when I saw, from the corner of my eye, a man about to shoot a strange looking arrow.

While a part of my mind made the connection, noticing that it had to be Hawkeye (he was the only one I knew to be an archer); most of my attention was on the odd-looking arrow. I let my instincts take over the moment it was shot, raising my gun and just taking a fraction of a second to aim in the general area I expected the bolt's path to take, then I took a breath and squeezed the trigger as I exhaled.

The shot was a bit off-center, but still good enough to throw the arrow off course. I was still marveled at my success when I heard whistling again. Once again my instincts kicked in as I dropped to a crouch, an arrow going through the screen that had been right behind my head. When I became aware of the next whistling I didn't get the chance to move, there were chairs on both sides of me, people, and the smoke and dust made it harder to focus; so I did the only thing I could to protect myself as best as possible, I raised my hands over my head and waited... a pained groan escaped my lips a second later, as an arrow went through my hand, with enough force and speed to nick the top of my forehead.

"Natasha!" Phil called right then.

It was as if a whole sentence was carried through a single word. In a second Agent Romanoff, who had been crouching a few feet from me, leapt from her position and went in the very direction the arrow had come from; apparently Phil had sent her after Hawkeye.

"Kathryn, are you alright?" He asked, approaching right then.

"It's not the first time I've been shot." I tried to make light of the situation, only to grimace when the slightest move sent sharp pain all through my arm. "Of course, I'd never before been shot by an arrow, but the point remains..."

"The cage has been released!" I suddenly heard one of the techs calling loudly.

"What?!" I couldn't help myself, I shrieked. "My niece was inside that thing!"

Things became a bit of a blur after that. I was too frantic over my niece and what might have happened to her to think about much else. The fight ended shortly after that development was announced, and pretty soon things were back in order.

I lost track of time, only half-aware as Phil got me onto a chair and then left briefly to handle things elsewhere. Someone tried to get me to the infirmary but I refused to move from my spot, even with the arrow still through my hand, so in the end they sent a paramedic to see to me. Even calling on my old training I couldn't help the flinch the moment an Agent used some pliers to cut the bolt as close to my skin as possible.

Right then a gasp called my attention and I raised my eyes in time to see that Agent Romanoff had just returned, and with her was a man in S.H.I.E.L.D. gear, a half-full quiver of arrows on his back. I didn't have to be a genius to know he must be Hawkeye. Everyone was giving him a wide berth, and it was in part because of that, that he had a direct view of me in that moment.

The moment Barton noticed I was looking straight at him he bowed his head penitently at me. I half heard him muttering in apology. From the corner of my eye I could see everyone else's reactions; no one believed him, no one trusted him anymore, because of something that wasn't even his fault. I decided I wouldn't allow that; it didn't matter if I technically wasn't an Agent anymore, hadn't been in many years; maybe Maria was right, once a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, always a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent. It didn't really matter, I just focused in everything that had once made me an Agent, that had made me Kathryn Adler, and then I got on the move.

I turned the paramedic away as I got on my feet. Reaching for the remaining piece of arrow in my left hand with my right and took it out; careful enough not to hurt myself worse, but still quickly enough to show myself as more than most had seen me as up to that point.

"Agent Adler!" The paramedic cried out in shock. "You shouldn't..."

I ignored his tirade, taking the gauze he was holding and holding it in place to stop my hand from bleeding, before walking to where Romanoff and Barton had stopped. For the first time since my niece and I had arrived to the helicarrier I didn't deny I was an Agent, or try to stop others from calling me that; because in that moment that was exactly what I wanted, needed, to be.

"Agent." I called in my most formal voice.

Natasha looked at me with confusion, but Barton stayed with his eyes stubbornly to the floor.

"Agent, look at me!" I demanded with all the command I could.

Most of the people on board still did not know me; however, the way some of their highest ranked treated me was enough to show them I was someone of importance. It was enough to call everyone's attention in that moment, and even Barton couldn't help but react to the tone of my voice, straightening up and raising his eyes to look straight at me.

"Why is it that you feel the need to look down, Agent?" I asked him directly.

"Your wound... it's my fault ma'am." He explained in a low, hoarse tone.

"Is it?" I arched a brow purposefully. "I do not think so."

"I was the one who fired the arrows, ma'am." He explained quietly.

"True but, did you choose to do so?" I asked next.

"Excuse me?" He obviously wasn't expecting that.

"Choice is a very tricky thing Agent, no one knows that better than us." I told him in a tone of voice that I believed was both strong and understanding. "We do lots of things, both good and bad; and while some might be due to our own choices, many aren't. When such a thing happens, it tends to be because we're following orders. Most would consider it a lame excuse, but it's still true. This case was somewhat like that, you were following orders; the difference was, you didn't have a choice whether you would follow them, you simply had to. So yes, you shot at me, and at others, you hurt a number of people, maybe even killed some... it wasn't your choice, therefore, why should I hold you accountable?" I snorted. "You were a soldier following orders..."

"Why wasn't I strong enough to refuse...?" He asked in an almost hollow voice.

"I don't think anyone living has the needed strength to fight against the orders of self-acclaimed gods... if we did they wouldn't be able to call themselves that, would they?" I half-smirked at that. "You are a strong man, Agent Barton, a good man. What happened in the last few days should not change the way you see or conduct yourself in any way."

"Hm..." It was Barton's turn to snort. "I doubt they think the same."

No specifics needed to be given, it was obvious enough.

"Since when does their opinion matter?" I asked him in an almost cold tone, completely ignoring everyone else. "You have a code-name, do you not, Agent Barton?"

"I believe you already know the answer to that, ma'am." He seemed confused, but answered me anyway. "They call me Hawkeye."

"Do you know what it means?" I hurried to clarify before I confused him further. "Not your code-name, literally, but what it means to have one, in a place like S.H.I.E.L.D.?" I didn't actually wait for an answer. "Not just anyone gets a codename. Having one means you're part of a very select group, that you're an Elite... Elites bow to no one, regret nothing, never surrender. If they make a mistake, they don't waste time and oxygen in useless apologies and pleasantries, instead they use those to make sure that mistake is never repeated, either by correcting themselves, or getting rid of the external threat. So, do not bow, and do not apologize, just make things right. Have I made myself clear, Agent Hawkeye?"

"Yes, Agent..." He was waiting for me to finish for him.

"Kathryn Adler-Salani." I fused my two names in one and, knowing what the next question would be, I answered it before he could make it. "Some people know me as Sphinx..."

I did not need to see to know the expression of shock that must have taken over a majority of the people in the room. I wasn't arrogant, I simply knew what the 'legends' said about me. Sphinx, it'd begun as a codename my old-partner would use when referring to me in his reports during a long-term, highly-classified op in Cairo, years before. Somehow the name had stuck even after we were done and left Egypt; before I fully realized it people all around the Agency were referring to me by that name. I didn't actually dislike it, and so I came to be known as the Sphinx...

One of the techs interrupted the moment right then.

"Director Fury, our people have found the remains of the cage." A young man announced from before one of the computers.

We all turned to him instantly, which made him hesitate, especially when his eyes fixed on me.

"What did they find?" Fury demanded to know.

"The cage was completely destroyed on impact." The tech said in a more controlled tone than before. "No bodies have been found yet but..." he hesitated, giving me a quick look before finally adding. "Hair was found, a considerable amount... blonde..."

Everyone turned to look at me immediately.

"Only blonde?" I asked, that was very important.

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded. "I'm very sorry, ma'am."

What he didn't understand, he could have never understood, was that that was exactly what I wanted to hear... and then, my phone rang. The ring tone, a flute melody, bright and happy, gave out who the caller was without me needing to even check caller ID.

"Silbhé!" I called brightly as I answered the phone. "Where are you?"

All eyes were on me, but I did not care, I only cared about the person on the other end of the line, who asked me to put her on speaker right after reassuring me she was alright.

"Falling down over 30 thousand feet, in a steel and glass death-trap isn't what I call a way to get on our good side, Director Fury." Silbhé's voice was strong through the phone, stronger than I'd heard her in years. "Whoever it was among your people that did this, I must tell you I am not happy about it."

"From what I'm hearing, you seem to be just fine, Salani." Fury told her almost sarcastically. "Especially considering that our people just found the remains of that cell, with blonde hairs..."

"Yes, that was unavoidable, I'm afraid." She did not go into detail, choosing instead to focus on what was most important right then. "Still, considering that the only reason I'm alive right now is thanks to the help of a man S.H.I.E.L.D. sees as an enemy, I don't see how you think it changes anything Director..."

We could hear some muttering in the background, presumably Loki, and then Silbhé was talking to us once again.

"The waiting time is over, Director." She announced seriously. "The chitauri are on their way. If you are planning on your would-be-team doing anything, they need to be on their way already. This invasion cannot be stopped..."

"Cannot, or are you simply choosing not to?" Fury asked coldly.

"The answer to that question is irrelevant, Director." She insisted. "The facts are: the aliens are coming, they will destroy everything in their path; if you wish to save the people, to stop the chitauri, you will send your people now."

"And what will you be doing, Miss Salani?" The Director wanted to know.

"What I must." She was being evasive. "In any case, I don't like placing all my eggs in a single basket; which is why I've already called on some help myself."

"Did you call the Professor?" I understood immediately who she was talking about.

"Yes." Silbhé replied immediately. "He's sending a team, some of his best. They'll be here soon. He'll also have a second team on stand-by just in case. I also got in touch with Spidey, he says he's ready; I convinced him to mostly look after any civilians that might be in danger... the last thing I want is to put a kid in danger; yet I know we'll need all the help we can possibly get."

"Nightingale, the portal is opening..." We all heard Loki in that moment.

"Right, I gotta go." Silbhé told us. "If any of you are planning on helping, you should hurry. By the way, quite a view you've got Stark!"

The call cut right then, leaving us in shock.

"She didn't even tell us where we're supposed to go to help!" Maria half-hissed right then.

Before she could really go into a rant, however, Stark let out a loud guffaw.

"Quite a view indeed!" He called loudly, still laughing.

"Stark?" Phil called, doubtfully.

"They're in New York." Stark announced, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "In Stark Tower to be precise."

I understood then what he already had, what Silbhé had meant with her last comment.

"Quite a view indeed..." I repeated.

"Agents to your posts!" Director Fury called with all authority. "Captain Rogers..."

"Anyone who's planning on joining this fight, if you have a suit, then suit up." Rogers called as he got on his feet. "We leave in five minutes."

I didn't even think about it, before I was even fully conscious of it I was on my feet and walking right beside Phil.

"Are you sure about this, Kathryn?" He signaled to my bandaged hand.

"I am right-handed." I reminded him. "And besides, my niece is there in New York, about to be involved in an interdimensional war... there is no way I will not do my best to help her."

"Follow me then." He told me. "We'll get you some better gear."

No one tried to stop me, after the speech in the bridge most knew better than that. By the time the five minutes were up Rogers, Dr. Banner, Thor, Barton, Romanoff, Phil and I were all on the quinjet and ready to go. Stark chose to go ahead, both because he was faster like that and to give us a heads up on the situation. And off we were...

**xXx Nightingale's POV xXx**

I watched my phone's display for a few seconds; the call had been cut rather abruptly, there was more I would have liked to say, though I supposed it wasn't strictly necessary. If that last comment wasn't enough to make at least one person realize where exactly we were, the place that was about to become ground zero for an alien invasion... then the world really might be better without them fighting for it. At least I knew there would be people fighting...

Knowing there was nothing else that could be done on that front I snapped my phone shut, slipping it back inside my pants pocket (Loki had, at some point, used magic to adjust the size of my pants and jacket, making them more comfortable. I approached my love then, we were on the viewing deck of Stark Tower, in the very center of New York, on the top of it was a man called Dr. Selvig, a human being controlled by the Mind Gem, who had created a device to open a portal straight into the abyss, with the aid of the Tesseract. There was a way to close the portal, and relatively easy too: we just needed the scepter with the Mind Gem. The problem? We didn't know where it was. Loki was completely sure someone had gotten it out of the helicarrier during the attack, but we had no idea who had it, if that was the case.

"Will they come?" Loki asked, turning to me.

"If they're in any way worthy, they will be here." I nodded. "If not, chances are we'll be better off without them, to be honest."

"You called other people to fight." He commented. "People you trust... apparently more than those at S.H.I.E.L.D..."

"Honestly?" I didn't stop, the answer to that was obvious. "There are a lot of people I would trust more than those in that Agency... the things I've heard about them in the past have not been very good, and I didn't see anything in the last few days that could have changed my opinion."

"Who did you call then?" He was very interested. "You mentioned that one was a kid..."

"The people know him as Spider-Man." I explained. "To be perfectly honest, I do not know his civilian identity, his real name; though by his voice and mannerisms alone I can tell he's very young, most likely still a teenager. He's pretty well known around Queens as a super-hero, though the police tends to go after him for vigilantism. Still, that doesn't stop him from helping everyone he can, mostly dealing with petty criminals... though I did hear about a Lizard, a sort of mutated creature of some kind that caused terror and destruction a few months ago..."

"You trust him against creatures like the chitauri?" Loki seemed surprised.

"I trust him to help protect innocent civilians." I clarified. "To fight I called on the other ones I trust, the real team. They're mutants, call themselves X-Men. Their abilities are varied and very amazing. Also, this wouldn't be the first time they dealt with a threat against innocents."

"X-Men?" Loki seemed curious about that. "Mutants?"

"From what I've read on the topic, evolution has made it so there are some among us humans, who are born different." I tried to explain as best I was able. "I'm not very well-versed in the topic of genetics, to tell you the truth, but I know this much: just like there are some genes, parts of a person's DNA that make it so we're born with eyes, hair and skin of a certain color, and other specific traits; there is a part of the DNA that, if present, means the individual has, or will have, other characteristics. They call it the X-gene, due to the person who's studied everything and explained things the most: Professor and Dr. in Genetics: Charles Xavier."

"What kind of characteristics?" Loki was truly intrigued by the whole topic.

"All kinds." I couldn't help but smile at the memory. "I've had the honor of meeting many of these extraordinary individuals. Most are still children, but some are older; those who've chosen to fight for the right reasons are part of the X-Men. But about characteristics: I've seen a woman whose skin is blue and she seems to be covered in scales, her son is blue as well, and has a tail, there's another man, who's also blue, except he's furry, a woman with dark skin, completely white hair and eyes that cloud over when she uses her powers. And the powers are as varied as the physical characteristics; though there are also some who look, well, normal, and still have amazing gifts. Speed, strength, endurance, shapeshifting, pyrokinesis, cryokinesis, illusions, creating doubles, telekinesis, weather manipulation, phasing through solid objects, hypnotism, healing, magnetism, telepathy... flying; so many possibilities..."

"I think... I would like to meet these mutants." He said quietly.

"I think you would really like them." I nodded with a small smile. "Some of them don't like humans much, but most are quite willing to be friendly, as long as you don't try to hurt them."

"Are the things you said you'd heard about S.H.I.E.L.D. connected to them?" He was as intuitive as he'd always been.

"Some, though not all of them." I admitted. "Like I said, some of the mutants don't like humans, and they have very good reasons for this; especially concerning the military and scientists... humanity can be quite monstrous at times, you know?"

He didn't ask me what I meant, he probably didn't need to, I was probably broadcasting my feelings, at least to a level, and our bond meant he could sense them.

"I cannot help but wonder, how exactly do you know these people?" He asked next.

"About three months or so after my memories were taken, Aunt Kathryn took me to a man she'd heard of, whom she thought might be able to help me: Professor Charles Xavier, in fact, he's the Headmaster of the 'Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters', a school for mutants; he's also a telepath, I believe the most powerful telepath in the world." I told him, remembering quite clearly that first meeting. "Aunt Kathryn had hoped he would be able to help me recover my memories, that they might just be blocked, or something; he was the one who told us that they'd been taken. According to the professor I have a particular awareness of my own mind, I could actually feel the holes where the memories had been. Still, there was nothing he could do to help me recover them." I shook my head, I needed to focus. "Even though he couldn't help, Aunt Kathryn and I stayed in the Institute for a while, they helped me function even with the holes, to move past my breakdowns. I got to know a lot of people there. However, you wanna know who my favorite was? Now that I think about it, with all my memories, he actually reminds me of you somewhat; back then he just felt... safe, for a reason I couldn't understand."

"And who might this man be, that reminds you so much of me?" He truly seemed interested.

"His name is Erik Lehnsherr, better known to some as Magneto. He's the Professor's partner..." I took a breath, trying to think of the best way to explain his story so Loki would understand the comparison I was making. "You know of WWII, right?"

"Yes." His tone grew darker. "I only actually visited Midgard once during that time, but thanks to my magic I got to see so much of what happened... F... Odin and I actually argued about it once. I thought we ought to intervene, help all those people trapped in the camps, dying. He said it wasn't our place, because those were the doings of humans, we were to leave them to their own devices. We... he had the means to save so many lives and chose to do nothing!" He took a deep breath before adding. "I believe the Captain, the one they call Captain America, fought in that war."

"He did." I nodded. "He was lost in the North Atlantic before its end, but he fought there, saved a lot of people."

"What does any of this have to do with your mutant friend?" Loki reminded me of our original line of conversation.

"He was there too." I told him quietly. "As a child... he was one of those people in the camps."

Loki froze in that moment, almost literally. By the feelings he was broadcasting, all awful and dark, I could tell he knew a lot of what had happened in those camps during WWII, more than he would ever admit to it. I didn't mind, I knew enough to feel sick whenever I thought about it for too long. Still, it was important to what I had to say:

"He was a young teen, little more than a child, really... no older than I was when the Cancer almost killed me." I went on with the story. "His gift is magnetism, and it first manifested the day he and his parents were taken to Auschwitz... well, lets just say the wrong kind of person took an interest in him because of that. After it was all over he spent years hunting down and killing all Nazis, while searching for the man who had tortured him during that time, who'd murdered his mother in front of him..."

That, yet again, made Loki's breath catch in his throat, and even before the ripple of feeling reached me I knew exactly what he was feeling, for our feelings echoes one another right then; the mere thought of anything happened to Frigg, or Kathryn...

"He was still hunting for Schmidt when he met Charles in 62, off the coast of Miami." I went back to the story. "As it happens, the man had changed his name to Shaw and was instigating a nuclear confrontation between the Americans and the Soviets. The CIA were tracking him down since one of their Agents had seen him talking to a dirty General. That same Agent, Moira MacTaggert, had seen the mutants helping Shaw, and went looking for someone who could explain to her what she'd seen, it was how she ended up meeting the Professor, the very day of his graduation as Dr. in Genetics... The Professor accompanied her and a team of operatives to Miami, hoping to catch Shaw, they found Lehnsherr trying to kill him, and almost dying in the attempt. The two became friends very quickly. They went to recruit more mutants who would help them take down Shaw. Of course, some things went wrong, people got killed... and it all ended in a fight in Cuba, with the American and Soviet navies in a stand-off, everybody waiting to see who would fire first."

I may not have been alive at the time, but it was still stressful.

"And?" Loki asked, after I kept silence too long.

"The group of young mutants they had recruited and trained defeated Shaw's subordinates, while the Professor used his telepathy to help Magneto get to Shaw himself." I explained. "There's a lot that happened on Cuba that I cannot explain; but it all came down to the moment when both navies fired their missiles, at that beach, after Shaw and his people had been defeated. They knew exactly who was on that beach, what that group of extraordinary people had done, and they did not care. They chose to see them as different, and a threat, than seeing them as heroes..."

"It happens every time..." Loki muttered under his breath, mostly to himself.

"People will always fear what they do not understand." I agreed with a sigh. "And I believe that is as true for Asgardians as it is for humans..."

"What happened then?" Loki wanted to know the rest.

"Magneto stopped the missiles before they could hit the beach." I let out a breath. "He was so furious, at the humans turning on them, especially since it was something he'd been saying they would do. He was convinced humans would treat mutants the same way the Nazis had treated the Jews. He wanted to destroy the humans. No matter how the Professor tried to reason with him, it was useless. Then Moira, who had gone with them, had the terrible idea to shoot at Magneto. She might just have been trying to distract him, considering that she must have known he could deflect the bullets with his ability. What no one could have expected was when one of those bullets hit Charles... on his back. Magneto finally let go of the missiles at that point. The two talked and then... they split. Their ideals were too different: the Professor believed in educating humans to understand and accept mutants, believed in integration and peace; and Magneto, he believed such a thing would never happen, that war was coming, and the only way to survive was to destroy the humans..."

" _Peace, was never an option..."_

I had heard that phrase; actually I'd heard a lot more, mostly accidentally, projected from the Professor's own mind while he was helping me move past the mess that was my mind. I was probably one of very few people, privileged people, who knew exactly what had happened on Cuba that day... but most was too personal to ever be repeated in detail. What I'd told Loki was mostly the things that were known, with just a few additional details, enough for him to understand what was going through my own mind...

"From that day, and for more than forty years afterwards, the two groups were at odds." I began relating in more general terms. "The Professor's X-Men, and Magneto's Brotherhood. The later would attack the government, facilities they believed either imprisoned or experimented on mutants, killing everyone in their wake; while the former did their best to rescue, protect and stop the Brotherhood from killing as much as they could. The Professor was convinced that, if given a chance, humanity would accept them."

"Something tells me that never happened." Loki mumbled.

"It didn't." I admitted. "But it didn't get as bad as you're imagining, as I'm sure Erik expected it to." I sighed. "In 2003 a military man called Stryker attacked the Xavier Institute in Westchester. He took several children prisoner; though most managed to escape, thankfully. By that point he'd also already captured the Professor, and was planning to use him, with help of some illusions from another mutant, his own son in fact, and a drug that allowed him to manipulate mutants, to destroy them all, with the aid of a machine called Cerebro. Magneto and his 2IC: Mystique, teamed up with the X-Men to recover the Professor and the children. Some other things happened in the process also, but mostly things went well." I shook my head. "Through the years Magneto did a lot of things, bad things, hurt a lot of people; but I know the Professor never gave up on him. The connection between them was such that they never gave up on each other. I think they were always meant to end up together, no matter the time it took, or everything that might have happened before. They simply compliment each other." I sighed again. "Makes me wonder what the world would be like if the two had worked together from the very beginning."

"You say they were always meant to get back together." Loki commented. "So, does that mean they stayed allied after that man's attack?"

"No, not really." I went back to the story. "In 06 a group of scientists created what they called 'The Cure', it must be obvious what it was supposed to do. There were some mutants who honestly wanted it, either because they wanted to be normal, or simply their power complicated their life in some way they decided it was better to just be human."

"Wouldn't that be denying their own nature?" He flashed blue briefly.

"Maybe but..." I sighed. "There is this gal, I consider her my dearest friend among the mutants. Most call her Rogue, though her birthname is Marie. Her ability consists of taking other people's energy and powers through touch. She spends most of the time covered from head to toe, cannot even touch others without fear of hurting them... she was one of those who took the Cure..."

"And?" Loki inquired, brow arched.

"The effects weren't quite as permanent as the scientists claimed." I shrugged. "I hadn't yet met her back then. But she told me that if it hadn't been for Logan... she wouldn't have survived the return of her powers. Her breakdown after realizing she once again couldn't touch anyone was such she became suicidal for a while. Would have succeeded if Logan hadn't been there for her. It probably came as no surprise to anyone, except those in absolute denial, when those two wound up together after she recovered."

"And what about your other friend, Magneto?" Loki asked me.

"He lead an attack against the facility where the Cure was being created." I told him. "The X-Men and the American military against dozens of violent mutants that had come together under the Brotherhood's banner. I saw in the news and online pictures and even some videos of the destruction the confrontation caused, it was... staggering. Magneto pretty much ripped off the Goldengate Bridge in San Francisco, to allow his followers to reach Alcatraz Island, where the scientific facility was located."

Loki actually blinked at that, obviously thinking about the kind of power that would be necessary for such a thing to be possible.

"In the end, Magneto lost." I let out a breath. "He was injected with the Cure, losing his powers; as were many of his subordinates. Something that had already happened to Mystique days before, while they were getting more soldiers to their cause..."

"What about the Professor?" My love was curious about that.

"He was believed to be dead, after a confrontation with an out-of-control telekinetic they refer to as Phoenix." I told him. "There is a lot regarding that topic I do not understand. I just know many people acted in those days believing him dead; yet after the battle of Alcatraz, the Professor was found to be alive, though he was in a comma for awhile." I knew not the details, but they didn't seem that important. "After recovering he went looking for Erik, insisting that he take refuge in the Institute, something the former Mystique had already done. The two of them, along with Marie, and many others recovered their powers later on. In some, like Marie, it was something sudden, shocking; for others, like Erik, the powers came slowly, over time. It was as if their powers were fighting against the cure, destroying it ever so slowly..."

"And the two didn't split again after Magneto had recovered his powers?"

"No. I'm quite sure it wasn't easy for them, but they managed to compromise. The Professor had been faced with how far the humans were willing to go; and at the same time, Magneto was forced to accept that some humans were willing to accept mutants. They decided to continue their work together, from Westchester. Nowadays the X-Men mostly work to keep rogue mutants in line, or helping those who might lose control for whatever the reason. They also take down testing facilities, what few might be left; though things are much better now for the most part. When I met them, in 09, they were already one team."

"And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. have to do with any of this?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. was created from the remains of the American Paranormal Bureau, the very same the Professor and Magneto allied with in 62; the British Secret Scientific Reserve, which is the ones Captain America fought with during WWII; Aunt Kathryn too, worked for them, she was actually there when S.H.I.E.L.D. was formed, if I understood the comments from the last few days in the helicarrier correctly." I shook my head, that wasn't too important. "Also, several people in the Institute told me that while they don't have a good history with the government in general, and the military in particular; S.H.I.E.L.D. has downright refused to work with them in the past, claiming that the X-Men aren't to be trusted because they're not under government control, and therefore do not follow rules."

"That sounds idiotic." My love spat.

I just shrugged. To be perfectly honest I agreed with him completely. It still didn't change things any; our situation remained the same.

"I have hope that, with how everything has changed in the last few years, and the fact that the people in charge now aren't the ones who were at the time those awful things took place, both in 62 and in 06; that things might be different." I revealed to him in a low tone. "Who knows? This whole invasion might be just the thing to ally them..."

My Maverick just arched a perfect eyebrow at me, it was obvious he didn't fully agree with my optimism, but he wasn't going to say it out-loud either. In the end, we would see...

It also wasn't like we could continue talking about things forever; as the portal finished opening right then, and the invasion began...

From our vantage point we watched the chitauri emerge from the portal and fly off against the civilians. I didn't have to worry long, as almost as soon as the first explosion took place, a wave of fire eliminated at least three chitauri; a few more crashed against a wall of ice that appeared in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere, in the next instant. And that was just the beginning:

"I suppose those are your mutant friends..." Loki muttered thoughtfully, observing things.

"Yes." I began pointing them out to him. "The first two we saw are Pyro and Iceman; the girl helping civilians out of the ruins is Shadow-Cat, she can phase through solids, and take others along; helping her is Colossus, and you can see his mutation is obvious enough."

"Is that really metal?" Loki was truly surprised.

"It is." I nodded. "The blue one jumping all over the place and helping with evacuation is Nightcrawler, a teleporter. And Angel is obvious enough..."

"And your friend?" He inquired.

As if in answer we suddenly saw a young woman jumping off a window in a close building, to land right on one of the strange chariots the chitauri had. She had elegant blades in her hands, sais in fact. They'd been a gift from her mate, at the end of her training with him. To fit with the style he'd taught her, his own animalistic one.

And, in fact, her mate wasn't far behind her, calling to her in a mix of worry, annoyance and humor, while systematically taking down every chitauri that came anywhere close to him.

"Those are they." I signaled. "Rogue and her mate, Wolverine."

"You have some interesting friends, my Nightingale." He told me with a small smirk.

I was distracted in that moment, too distracted. I was half-aware of the quinjet landing a few blocks away, in a park, Thor and Iron-Man shooting by, taking down some chitauri as well. However, all my attention was focused when I suddenly saw, from the corner of my eye, a dark figure jumping from the second level of the viewing deck, straight at my love.

"Loki, beware!" I cried out in shock.

And yet, a part of me knew it was too late, that he would never be able to react in time, so I acted instead; leaping at him myself, and pushing him out of the way with all my strength. It was enough to keep him safe, though I didn't manage to move myself in time. The hit meant for my love connected with me instead, and before I was even fully conscious of what was happening I was falling. I screamed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like any and all readers opinions on what I've been doing with X-Men lately. I have plans to include the X-Men movies in the main storyline of Nightingale as well, but I've yet to decide between several possibilities: one, like I've done in Kinship and here (and later other fics) handle it like all the movies happened exactly and connect them later on; two, have either Loki, Kathryn or someone else have been involved either in the First-Class or the original trilogy and do something that changed things; three, have things be different in the X-Men because of something they themselves did; four, time-travel fix-it (no sure who exactly just yet, but it's my fav option right now)! Please let me know your opinions, they might help me make up my mind! 
> 
> Also, for those who might have read Menel... I am working on the series, the beginning of the first part: Lokidottir, will be up sometime this month! Also, a friend has agreed on doing a fantrailer-vid for it, so I'll keep you informed on that too! 
> 
> See ya around! Please don't forget to comment!


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where the battle takes place, the X-Men make an appearance, and Odin gets to pay for his crimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men make an appearance in this chapter. Remember that their history follows all the movies (except Days of the Future Past, which doesn't yet come out), but takes a particular path after "Last Stand" which I have already explained in the things Nightingale said the previous chapter. 
> 
> Also, this chapter will give quite a different spin from anything I've done in previous AUs or the original timeline (beyond the singer-thing). I hope you'll like it.

**Memories**

I knew what it was like to surrender, I wasn't doing it again, never again.

I lost my breath almost violently, however, at the same time I realized I was no longer falling, someone had managed to catch me before I crashed against the ground, over ninety floors away; someone who could fly, I realized as I saw the white-feathered wings on his back.

"Warren!" I cried out in realization. "I mean, Angel!"

He put me down on a street corner, almost half a dozen blocks away from Stark Tower.

"Are you alright Songstress?" He asked seriously.

"Just fine, thanks to you I might add." I told him.

"Songstress!" I heard a female voice call right then.

The X-Men had taken to calling me by my stage-name/nickname, whenever they were suited-up, said it worked as a codename, and it was like I was one of them. They didn't care if I was human, and small and weak even for that; they still were my friends, Marie especially.

"Girl!" She called, hurrying to embrace me as soon as she was close enough.

"Hey Rogue..." I always called her by that name when she was 'in suit'.

"Ya gave me a scare girl, when the Prof said ya had called, that ya needed our help, right away..." She elaborated, looking me up and down. "He said there was an emergency..."

"And some emergency this turned out to be..." Pyro added.

He and Iceman just passed by before moving on, working in tandem to take down as many chitauri as possible; though they would also stop if there were people who needed protection, waiting until either Colossus, Shadow Cat, Angel or Nightcrawler got there to get the people out. Then they would continue.

"Are ya alright, girl?" Rogue asked suddenly, her voice turning softer.

"Yes, of course." I answered automatically.

She raised a brow at me, the look in her eyes showing she did not believe me; as she kept looking me over carefully, as if hoping to find something.

"You've changed kid." Wolverine explained as he joined us. "The look in your eyes, it's different from the last time we saw you, the way you stand too."

"It's not bad." Rogue hurried to add. "Ya look well, wonderful actually. It's almost as if..." She broke off, at a loss for words.

"You finally look comfortable in your own skin." Wolverine finished for her.

"Yes." I had to smile at them both. "I got my memories back."

Wolverine nodded, as if that were, somehow, perfectly understandable. I knew he too had once suffered the loss of a great many memories. Most of them he'd never recovered. And after some years, he'd decided he was alright with that. On the other hand, his brain had healed, mine hadn't. I was able to feel the holes where memories were missing in a way he never did.

"How could that be?!" Rogue practically shrieked in delight. "I thought the memories were lost! I mean... the Prof said..."

"He said they were taken, and they were." I nodded, not sure how to explain everything I'd just learnt. "It's complicated. Lets just say that they were given back to me. I'm whole once more."

"I'm very happy for you, girl..." She genuinly was.

"Well, what do you people say about killing a few more aliens?" Wolverine suggested with a predatory grin as he brought his claws out.

"They're called chitauri." I informed him.

"Doesn't matter, they're still gonna die." Wolverine deadpanned.

"Stay close." Rogue told me. "Logan and I will make sure nothing happens to you."

A part of me wanted to roll my eyes at the comment; however, there was another part who remembered quite clearly how lost I'd been for the last three years, and how much of a help both Marie and Logan had been. They were being overprotective, yes, but it wasn't an insult against me; they were just used to looking after me. They saw me as family, something I knew didn't come easy for either (in fact, it didn't seem to come easy for any mutant, it was why they tended to form their own families, among themselves). I wasn't about to begrudge them that.

We walked a couple of blocks like that. With dozens of chitauri systematically falling to either Wolverine's claws or Rogue's sais. Their feral characteristics given free reign in that moment. And even then, half lost as they were, enjoying the battle to its fullest, they never failed to recognize me, to protect me. It was a seriously humbling thing, to realize that even the wildest, most animalistic, instinctual sides of two of the most distrusting individuals in the world, saw me as someone dear, someone to be trusted and protected.

"Silbhé!" I heard Aunt Kathryn calling me.

Rogue reacted instinctively to the combination of a loud voice and an unknown getting close; dropping into a crouch, a sai on each hand, teeth bared animalistically. Behind me Wolverine turned, after pretty much eviscerating two more aliens, following the sound of his mate's growl. I chose to forego acknowledging my aunt to instead focus on calming down my friends.

"It's okay." I told them softly, trying to infuse my voice, my very aura with serenity. "It's alright. She's my aunt, she's with friends. They're allies, not enemies. You need not fight them."

Behind Aunt Kathryn were Phil, as well as the bunch of people Director Fury had said were part of some 'Avengers Initiative'... the would-be heroes.

"What the he...?" An archer, Hawkeye from what I'd heard around, who'd been taken by Loki, stopped mid-question at a signal from Black Widow.

"They're ferals." Kathryn explained calmly, slowing her approach knowingly. "Mutants. They're in the midst of a hunting and protecting haze and, not knowing us, their instincts classify us as a possible threat. Move slowly, don't make any sudden moves and you'll be alright."

"They're dangerous..." Black Widow murmured quietly.

Regardless, we all heard her, as Rogue's low hiss proved.

"Aren't we all?" Kathryn commented flippantly.

"There is a reason why S.H.I.E.L.D. has refused to work with mutants in the past." Phil pointed out, though he didn't seem as unsure as his two subordinates.

"Yes, they're idiots, that's the reason." Iron Man deadpanned.

"Would you like me to tell them to stop fighting to protect the humans?" I asked scathingly. "Do you really think S.H.I.E.L.D. has what it takes to stop this threat on their own? That you do?" I snorted. "You can't even act as a team, how do you expect to save the world...?"

It looked like one of them was about to voice a complaint when suddenly several chitauri rushed at us from a side. The pseudo-heroes hesitated, obviously because I was in the way; Rogue simply turned, flipping over me at the same time I dropped into a crouch to allow her to pass; she and Wolverine were upon the aliens and tearing them up in instants.

"Vicious..." Captain America murmured in slight shock.

"But effective." Kathryn pointed out, not queasy in the slightest.

With no more chitauri left in the area Rogue and Wolverine relaxed, allowing their feral qualities to diminish. It wasn't a visible difference, but for the way they stood, more relaxed, at ease; also, their eyes seemed to grow brighter.

"Who the fuck are all of you?" Wolverine demanded of the newcomers.

Rogue shook her head at his language but did not try to correct him, it was pointless.

Introductions were made, followed by a declaration of intent; none of us were impressed, especially not Wolverine.

"If you're here to fight the bastards, what the hell are you doing still standing here?" He asked in his usual, gruff tone.

No one seemed to know exactly how to answer that. Kathryn took the chance to approach me, placing a hand on my shoulder even as she looked me up and down, making sure I was alright.

"I'm just fine, Auntie..." I assured her with a small smile. "Wonderful actually."

She knew I didn't mean the fight, or the fall, but my memories; everything else, regardless of how dangerous (and really, I'd fallen -been thrown- off quite high places twice in less than as many hours!) things had gotten.

"Hey!" Iron Man called abruptly. "Your hair's short, and a different color!"

For all answer I ran a hand through a lock of chin-length dark-auburn hair; definitely nothing like the shoulder-length almost-platinum-blonde I'd been sporting before...

"The hair in the remains of the cage..." Black Widow murmured, probably connecting the dots.

"Yes, that's a wig." I shrugged. "For whatever the reason it didn't jump with us when Loki got us out that thrice-damned death-trap before we crashed in it."

"So, you're not a blonde then?" Iron Man asked the obvious question.

"Considering my dad is a brunette and my mother was a redhead, I have no idea where you suppose I would get blonde hair from..." I rolled my eyes. "Mr. Webstern, my producer, thought it made me look more elegant, or something along those lines. I also thought it was a good disguise. I only had to take it off and could go anywhere without being recognized..."

Not that I went out much, at least not in the years since I became a singer... still, the whole thing might pay off in the future (as long as I didn't end up dead in the next few days).

"Hey!" The Captain called to Wolverine suddenly. "I'm sorry but, have I met you before?"

Wolverine cocked his head to a side, as if studying the man in blue, red and white.

"It seems almost insane." The Captain went on. "But you remind me of someone I knew during the war... in Germany..."

"I've been to a lot of places, fought in a great many wars, bub." Wolverine told him with a shrug. "But unless it happened in the last 27 years, chances are, I won't remember it."

"What...?" No one understood what that meant.

"Took a bullet to the head 27 years ago." He explained with another shrug. "Brain healed, but the memories were pretty much lost... Doesn't matter, I have a perfectly good life right now. Whatever happened in the past is better staying there."

Rogue and I knew that, for the most part, he was referring to his brother. I did not know the story, only that he was a feral too, one that had surrendered so much of himself to his animalistic side, that practically everything that had once made him human had disappeared. Rogue claimed he had a soft spot for Wolverine still, and a mix of that and a jealous-streak a mile wide for her, due to their connection; but I'd never actually witnessed anything.

"I think we need to stop talking about pointless stuff and get on with our job." Wolverine said abruptly, cracking a few joints as he stretched.

I knew that his feral side could sense there were more enemies in the area, and not being already there, fighting them, made him cranky. Rogue at least, since her feral side was secondary, could shield herself from it; even as she reacted to Wolverine's own anxiety.

"I need to get back to Stark Tower." I announced suddenly.

I hadn't forgotten about my love. As soon as Angel had set me on my feet I had focused all the reassurance and confidence I could, sending those feelings through our connection, to make sure he knew I was alright and there was no need to worry about me. Still, and while I was quite sure he would prefer it if I stayed away, I also knew he would worry if I wasn't in his sight, as much as I was worrying about him; and I just needed to help him, somehow... of course, for that I would need someone to get me back to that viewing deck.

"That is a very, very bad idea..." Hawkeye shook his head empathically.

"I don't think you realize what you're asking, ma'am." Captain America commented, trying to be respectful yet authoritative at the same time.

"I know exactly what I'm saying." I retorted. "I need to get back to Loki!"

"Last I saw, Reindeer Games was no longer in my tower." Iron Man informed me. "He and some Freddy Krueger wannabe seemed to be chasing each other down in the alien flying chariots, trying to kill each other." His eyes narrowed. "Who is he, by the way?"

"I don't know." I answered honestly. "But I have a very bad feeling about all of this..."

I got an idea right then. I knew it was insane, but I could sense where the bond connecting Loki and I was, and Professor Xavier had taught me a lot about my own mind during my visits to the Institute. So I decided to take the risk, I found the bond, and mentally leapt at it.

*My love...?* I called tentatively in the rose-garden environment that I knew to be my mindscape (I'd been there before).

*Nightingale?!* It was obvious Loki wasn't expecting that. *What are you...? How are you establishing telepathic contact?*

*A little trick I just discovered I could do.* I told him almost flippantly. *Are you alright?*

*For the most part.* He sounded grim. *What about you?*

*Just fine. Angel caught me when I went off Stark Tower.* I reassured him. *I wasn't hurt in any way. Right now I'm with Rogue, Wolverine, Aunt Kathryn and the pseudo-heroes. Iron-Man told me that he saw you fighting with someone, some 'Freddy Krueger' wannabe, according to him.*

*He's the Other.*

*The Other?*

*I don't think he has a name or an identity of his own. He's the Mad Titan's Second in command.* There was a heavy pause before he added. *I think the Mad Titan knows that I've betrayed him.*

*You know, I think it technically isn't betrayal if you were never truly on his side...*

*It's still how he sees it. Thanos sent the Other to take over things. He's the one controlling Selvig now, and leading the Chitauri... he's also trying to kill me. Oh! And he has the scepter!*

*You mean the one we need to close the portal?*

*Yes...*

*I will let everyone know the situation. Loki... we will get that scepter back, and stop this invasion. You can trust the X-Men know what they're doing; and the others... I suppose they couldn't hurt our chances any.*

*I trust you, my Nightingale. And if you believe they can do this...*

*I do... I believe in you too, my love. We will win this.*

*We will. Defeat isn't an option.*

No it wasn't. Defeat would mean utter destruction, not just for us but the whole planet, humanity as a whole. Therefore, defeat would never be an option.

I sent a burst of love to my Maverick before pulling back and returning to full consciousness. I had to blink several times to get clear sight again. I found Aunt Kathryn standing right in front of me, holding my face between her hands. Everyone else was forming a circle around us, weapons at the ready, keeping us safe... it felt so odd, seeing X-Men and S.H.I.E.L.D. people working together; and yet, it also felt right.

"Silbhé!" My aunt called for what was probably the umpteenth time. "Are you alright?"

"Just fine." I assured her immediately. "Honestly..."

"If going unconscious while still standing can be considered fine..." Iron Man muttered with a quite deliberate scoff.

"I wasn't unconscious." I told him as I rolled my eyes. "I was communicating with Loki."

"You can do that?!" The surprise in everyone was obvious.

"I can... I actually just found out." I shook my head, that part wasn't important. "The point is, apparently the Mad Titan has learnt of Loki's intention to double-cross him. He sent the Other, that's the Freddy Krueger wannabe Iron Man mentioned, to take control of the invasion and eliminate Loki."

"My brother is powerful!" Thor stated strongly.

"True, but this not a one on one duel Thor." I reminded him grimly. "All the chitauri will be working to take him down too." I shook my head. "In any case, there's in also the fact that we need to get the scepter."

"The scepter?" Rogue had no idea what I was talking about.

"You mean the one your lover-god had in Stuttgart?" Iron Man asked. "It was lost during the attack on the helicarrier."

"It wasn't lost, the Other has it." I pointed out. "And we need to get it back."

"Why?" Phil knew it had to be important.

"Because it's the only way to close the portal again." I told him directly.

That, at least, had everyone paying attention.

"What's the plan then?" Aunt Kathryn inquired.

"Well, if someone can get the scepter from the Other, you give it to me... and I will need someone to get me to Stark Tower so I can close the portal." I decided.

"Why you?" Phil inquired. "You're a civilian, shouldn't even be involved in this?"

"Considering that it was your people who insisted on getting me involved a few days ago in Stuttgart, where you decided I should be the one to question Loki, and then one of your men threw Loki and I off the helicarrier in that thrice-damned steel and glass death-trap..."

"About that, we believe that the man who did it might have been under hypnosis at the time."

"Ah..." I nodded. "That actually makes sense. Still, doesn't change what needs to be done."

Finally they all nodded, though I knew they still did not agree. Rogue informed the rest of the team of the developments; they still had their missions, but still, if any of them at some point got a chance at getting the scepter, they were to take it. Also, when that moment came either Angel or Nightcrawler were to take the scepter to me, and then get me to Stark Tower.

Of course, as it always happens: man plans, god laughs... and we just try our best.

At some point Hawkeye began celebrating quite loudly, yelling into his comm; I could hear because Phil gave me a spare so I could act as a sort of bridge between them and the X-Men (I had one from them too). It turned out that Hawkeye had just used one of his 'special arrows' one that carried explosives. The Other had managed to catch it before it pierced his head, but the bolt had been rigged to blow anyway, which gave him a burn, threw him off the chariot he was on at the time, and had the additional benefit of depriving him of the scepter. That very scepter was on my hands less than a minute later, courtesy of Nightcrawler.

Of course, at some point something just had to go wrong. When the piercing pain hit the left side of my abdomen I couldn't think, I just cried out at the same time I fell to my knees.

"Songstress!" Several people called, in and out of the comms.

"Silbhé!" Aunt Kathryn rushed to my side, she hadn't been far.

"I'm alright..." I mumbled several times, while trying to convince myself of the same. "I'm not the one in trouble..." I forced myself to my feet then. "Loki is." I turned to Nightcrawler. "I need you to get me to him... please..."

They had been denying the same request for almost fifteen minutes, no matter who I asked, or how many times. And movement on street level was too slow for me to get where I needed to, on foot. So I'd been forced to wait. Nightcrawler must have seen something on my eyes right then, for he finally took hold of me, and before anyone could utter another refusal, complaint, or anything else, we were gone.

We appeared in a corner of Stark's penthouse, on the same level as the viewing deck. And that was where Loki and the Other were fighting in that moment. Several of the plants that decorated the level were more than a little singed, one was even partly frozen; part of the glass wall separating the inside from the outside in that floor was broken, with the pieces splayed on the floor; and there were even pieces of broken furniture laying around.

I immediately focused my attention on the two combatants. Loki was getting up from some rubble on the second level of the viewing deck, as it appeared that a recent attack had thrown him partly through a wall and into another room in the tower. I half-absently noticed that he was standing strange, with no sign of the wound in his side, which I knew was real because I could still feel the phantom pain caused by it.

I did not say a word, holding the scepter in both hands, tight enough my knuckles turned white; Nightcrawler was behind me, holding me by the shoulders, obviously ready to teleport us both away at a moment's notice. The Other didn't notice us, though I couldn't believe that my love wouldn't know we were there.

There was fighting, hard and vicious. At some point I caught rippling in Loki's skin, made me wonder if he was losing control of his Aesir form, which I didn't even know was possible, or if he was using a spell to hide his injury, and it was beginning to fail, which would have meant he was weakening, and I hated the mere thought.

In a second, everything changed: Loki over-reached, losing his balance; the Other took advantage of his position and, before I could even muster a warning, gutted him with his own hand.

I couldn't help myself, I screeched in a mix of despair and horror; which kept growing as Loki dropped to his knees, and then on his back, a hand to his open, bleeding wound. I stopped screaming abruptly as I realized a very important detail... I wasn't feeling any pain.

I focused more intently on the body on the floor then and, as if on cue, it rippled, turning blue for an instant before revealing someone I wasn't expecting.

"Rogue..." I gasped.

The Other, who had been staring straight at his victim, reacted when Loki's visage disappeared, revealing a woman he did not know; then he heard me and looked up. He reacted instantly, if not to me, to the fact that I was holding the staff with the Mind Gem. He was about to leap at me, with Nightcrawler already a breath from teleporting away, when suddenly his body shook, and a primal groan left his mouth; right as I saw the tip of an intricate-looking dagger appearing in the middle of his chest.

I needed only to raise my eyes a bit to see the one holding the dagger, it was Loki, the real Loki. I could see the spot where his green silk and leather ensemble was darker due to the blood, he was also favoring that side just slightly. Still... he was holding the dagger, and made sure to twist it just enough to make the wound bleed further and the Other groan in obvious pain.

Then Loki backed down, and I couldn't help the surprise; while I was quite sure the dagger must have hit the Other's heart (if he had one), the fact that he was still standing was proof enough that he wasn't dead yet; why then was Loki backing down? I got my answer just a moment later, when Wolverine landed on the deck, after having jumped from god-knows-where. He growled loudly, leaping at the alien, and without a single word cut his head off with adamantium claws. I knew then what my love had done, allowing Rogue's mate to take the kill, satisfying the beast...

The moment the body fell to the floor, Wolverine turned away from it, dropping to his knees beside Rogue. He didn't say a word then, and I realized he must be too deep in his feral side to talk; so he just stood guard by his mate's side.

I allowed myself to fall to my knees, emotionally exhausted. It was only when the scepter was tugged off my hands that I became fully aware and saw Loki taking it.

"I'll handle this part." He assured me with a small smile. "Be right back."

And with that he disappeared from the room.

I stayed where I was for a while, not even sure how long exactly. Until I heard the sound of thrusters, Iron Man had just arrived to his deck. He walked a few steps, probably taking in the destruction of his penthouse; I wasn't sure if he hadn't noticed the two on a side of the deck; though Wolverine certainly noticed him, growled the moment Stark got a little too close.

"What the hell?!" Stark cursed.

"I would suggest not getting any closer, Stark." I told him calmly as I got on my feet and approached slowly, calmly.

"What happened here?" He wanted to know.

"Battle of course." I signaled to the decapitated body. "That's the Other, Loki and Wolverine took him down. Rogue, as you can see, got injured in the fight."

"I will say!" His eyes were wide, I could see where the face plate had opened. "We need to get her to a hospital or something before she bleeds out."

"I can call a helicopter to pick her up." I heard Phil behind me.

I actually spun around, I hadn't even heard the others arrive. They were all there.

"She's not gonna bleed out." I assured them calmly. "And you cannot call anyone. 1) It will be quite hard to find a doctor willing to treat a mutant. 2) Even if you do find someone, there is no way Wolverine will allow a stranger anywhere close to his mate. 3) Even if, by some kind of miracle, you find someone willing to see to Rogue, and whom Wolverine allows close, you cannot touch her right now..."

"He is touching her." Captain Rogers pointed out.

It was true, Wolverine was holding one of Rogue hands in one of his own, with the other he kept brushing her hair, or running it down her neck; all unconscious soothing motions.

"He's her mate." I really had no better words to explain it, not without ending up telling them too much, secrets that weren't my own to share.

Once I was sure they wouldn't insist, I approached the two ferals, kneeling on Rogue's free side, taking her free hand in mine, unbothered by the blood staining them.

"Are you sure she's not going to bleed out?" Stark sounded unsure and actually worried.

"Yes, I'm sure." I decided to explain at least a little. "Rogue's mutation allows her to copy the abilities of others, other mutants at least. Most of the time it's temporary, though a few have become permanent... like Wolverine's extreme healing. Her body is healing itself, right as we speak; so I can assure you, she will not bleed out, she will not die."

She was in pain, that was for sure, she wasn't immune to that, nor was Wolverine. But she would survive, and get better.

"How did she manage to look like Loki?" Hawkeye asked suddenly.

Everyone turned to him, making it obvious they hadn't known that.

"I could see most of the fight from a nearby roof." The archer elaborated. "After Loki was thrown into that wall, I think he wasn't the one to come out, it was her, looking like him. Then, when that thing..." he signaled to the dead body. "Stabbed her, she changed back, and Loki came out and stabbed him..." He looked straight at me. "How did she do that?"

I shook my head, honestly not knowing.

"She borrowed Mystique's power." Nightcrawler offered. "When the Professor told us to get ready to fight, that Miss Silbhé had called for help." He looked straight at me as he said the next part. "Rogue was worried someone might be after you. She told Angel and I that, if that was the case, one of us was to make sure to get you out and, if necessary, she would act as your decoy. It's why she asked Mystique to lend her her power..."

I had no words for that. I knew Rogue liked me, the older woman (while she might look about my age, was a few years older than me) tended to act like an older sister. Still, I could have never expected just how far she was willing to go to protect me...

"Where is Reindeer Games?" Iron Man asked abruptly.

That called everyone's attention instantly. However, before they could even begin worrying the aforementioned God materialized in the middle of the room, holding in one hand the scepter with the Mind Gem, in the other a case holding the Tesseract, and an unconscious Dr. Selvig was floating just in front of him.

"Erik!" Thor cried out, worried about his friend.

"He's fine, just unconscious... and he'll probably have a headache when he wakes up." Loki admitted with no regret. "I had to knock him out when he refused to allow me to interfere with the thrice-damned portal..."

"So, it's over?" Phil inquired, obviously tired.

"At least for now." Loki nodded.

That seemed to be enough to prompt everyone to relax, soon they were looking for the closest surface where they could sit down (some even choosing to simply drop to the floor and lie there). I chose to stay where I was.

"Would bandages or something else help her heal faster, or lessen her pain?" Aunt Kathryn asked quietly, keeping a few feet away. "She must be in a hell of a lot."

"I have no doubt about it." I sighed but shook my head. "However, one of the negative sides of healing as fast as those two do, is that most drugs have little to no effect on them. They burn through them too quickly."

She nodded in understanding before backing down.

We waited for a while, I had no way of knowing how long. Then, suddenly, we all heard Rogue's loud, gasping, intake of breath. She straightened up just enough to cough a few times, spitting a couple of mouthfuls of blood before calming down and settling back on the floor, almost, though Wolverine took the chance to cradle her head on his thighs.

"Hey hun..." I called her softly, squeezing her gloved hand with mine. "Welcome back."

"Hey, the battle's finished then?" A quick glance and her enhanced sense of smell had probably been enough to let her know everyone was there.

"Yes." I nodded. "We won."

"Of course." She obviously had never doubted that.

"Why did you do it, Marie?" I asked her softly.

"As I'm sure someone told you already, I asked Mystique to let me borrow her power before we left the Institute." She told me. "If you were in danger, acting as your decoy was the best way of protecting you. When that monster threw Loki into that wall, I decided it could have another use. I knew that if I got the alien to focus completely on me, he could wait for an opening to strike. I didn't exactly plan on getting injured... but I knew I stood a pretty good chance of not getting killed even if I was." She groaned as she sat up. "Still... getting gutted? Hurts like a bitch. I'm so not doing this again anytime soon."

Wolverine laughed, though there was no mistaking the protectiveness as his hand wandered to her midriff, to her bloodied black leather suit.

"So, does that mean we're done here?" Stark asked from the couch where he'd thrown himself earlier. "Is it over?"

"We're done here..." I agreed, before letting out a sigh. "But it's not over..."

As I said that, I couldn't stop my eyes from straying to my beloved, a few feet away from me; he was looking straight at me too. It was true, the battle against the chitauri might be over, but things weren't completely over yet, and they wouldn't be until we had settled matters with Odin, until I was sure we would be safe... something I didn't even know was possible. How would the Allfather react at the fact that I had my memories back? And what about everyone else who had learnt about Loki and Thor in the last week? I had no idea what the consequences of it all would be, but one thing was for sure, I would stand by the promise I'd made to Loki: I would not give up this time, we would be together, no matter what.

**xXx**

On Friday everything was ready. Dr. Selvig had created a device that would both hold the Tesseract inside and allow its power to be used to create a portal to Asgard. It was how we would be leaving. Professor X had offered asylum, not only to me but to Loki as well; we refused, for his safety, and that of his own students. In the end, my love had to go back, face the consequences of his actions, and I was going with him.

I knew most people had expected a fight to break out when I'd announced my intention of joining the two brothers on the trip to Asgard; yet there had been none. It was pretty easy in fact; we'd promised not to let each other go, not ever again. That meant that no matter how dangerous it might be for me to go to Asgard, to go anywhere near Odin and his mages... I was still going.

Stark actually was of some help... in a way. He'd created the chains that would be used on Loki, made from vibranium, in hopes that they would be strong enough to hold the Trickster god; the set included shackles to go on wrists and ankles (My love could use his magic to slip out of them whenever he wanted, but they did not need to know that.) What was truly surprising was when we were presented with a second, shorter chain... one meant to connect me to Loki.

Most of the Avengers had been completely scandalized at the mere idea; however, a few people, like Rogue, Wolverine (who'd decided to stick around even after the rest of his team had left, they would stay as long as I was still around), and Aunt Kathryn to a point.

"But the Lady Nightingale is not a criminal." Thor voiced his complaint the loudest.

"No, she's not." Stark's cheer didn't diminish any as he brought out another object, offering it to me. "Which is why I'm giving her the key as well!"

That threw almost everyone for a loop; those of us who realized what it all meant, smiled.

"The chains aren't meant to imprison her, they're meant to keep them together." Stark clarified for those who still didn't get it. "So this so-called, Allfather cannot separate them."

"I like the plan." I agreed.

It was a simple matter of securing one cuff, before crossing the chain around the one holding Loki, then securing the other cuff. The key was added to a necklace I already had around my neck, it looked silver but was actually an Asgardian metal. The necklace was a gift from Loki, which he'd had made in the last few years; had been carrying in the hopes of giving it to me once we were back together (the symbol of his hope that the day would come). It was a nightingale pendant with its wings open, hanging from a delicate chain; the most important part was that the pendant had enough spells on it to protect from almost anything. Loki had been especially delighted when announcing one of the spells protected my mind from anyone (except Loki, but that was because of our bonds); we'd actually confirmed that with help from the Professor, who confirmed that even he couldn't get in. Also, to that chain I'd already added the key to the deamarkonian, it was really the safest place to keep them.

That day I chose to wear the one non-dark dress I owned. It'd been a gift from Aunt Kathryn, in the hopes that I would wear it when I finally decided to stop mourning (my memories, my love, the pieces of my soul that were missing). It was a short dress, in two layers, the first was a solid cream color, sleeveless; the second was transparent, except for the small, pale pink, embroideries that seemed like petals, with short sleeves; both had a round neck. In contrast I wore light green strapy heels. My nightingale pendant was in view, though the keys were hidden beneath it, and the deamarkonian remained unseen.

After sharing lunch we were all in a walking bridge near the south end of Central Park. There were no civilians around, thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s interference. The Avengers, Aunt Kathryn, Phil, Marie and Logan. Dr. Selvig hung in the back, along with Dr.. Foster and her friend Darcy Lewis, both whom had arrived the day before. The surprise came when we saw a lot more mutants, some X-Men, some students, all in civilian attire, coming out of the trees; they were there to witness the departure too.

"Are you ready?" Thor asked, extending the device with the Tesseract forward.

"Not really." I admitted with a small shrug as I wrapped my arms around Loki's waist, mindful of the limits I had due to the chains. "But we gotta do this anyway, so..."

"Lets go." Loki finished, one arm around my waist, the other going to hold the device.

With a twist of Thor's hand we were gone.

It was a disconcerting, dizzying feeling; like some force was pulling us higher and higher; there was no ground beneath our feet, no walls around us, only the emptiness of space, the abyss, and we were cutting through it in a path of light, like the tail of a comet. I held onto Loki with all the strength I had, afraid of falling and getting lost in the darkness, he held me just as tightly, while still never letting go of the device, the thing guiding us through the abyss to where we needed to go, the Realm Eternal, Asgard.

When we finally arrived to Asgard, to the broken edge of the Rainbow Bridge, there were a few seconds during which my legs refused to support me; however, Loki was holding me tight enough I knew no one would notice. When I fully confident of my own footing he finally let go, at least enough so I could move, though I immediately held onto his arm.

Once I looked away from my love, I just couldn't stop looking around. The whole place was simply breathtaking, far beyond what Loki had described to me at one point. Eventually my eyes landed on the dark-skinned man in golden armor, whom I could easily guess to be the Gate Keeper: Heimdall. He was observing me rather intently.

"The girl..." He began, turning to Thor.

"She's coming with us." The blonde announced in a tone that allowed for no complaint.

Just a few feet away two men were waiting, each holding the reins to two horses; I recognized one of them instantly, he'd been with Loki, Thor, Sif and the mages the night my memories were taken: Hogun, the Grim. By the way his eyes widened, even if just slightly, I knew he recognized me as well. I didn't say anything to him, instead turning to Loki and Thor, who helped me get on a horse with my love.

It looked like Thor's friends (I could guess the other one, blonde and slender, to be Fandral) wanted to ask questions, especially concerning me; yet a look from Thor was enough to quiet them, at least for the time being.

It was when we finally arrived to the palace, and dismounted, that the two men became aware of the chains that were on me.

"Why is she chained?" Fandral practically blurted out.

"For safety." Thor answered promptly.

Of course, what he didn't clarify, was that it was for my safety, rather than anyone else's.

While we walked through the palace, in our way to the main Throne Room, I couldn't help but think about Odin. I'd spent most of Thursday brushing on what I knew about him, about his powers. It made me wonder how much of what had transpired in the last week and a half he knew already... the moment we stepped through the doors, to find a room almost completely empty, I knew for a fact that he must know at least some; enough that he didn't want strangers witnessing what he must already know was coming.

Aside from the Allfather on his throne, Lady Frigg was standing halfway up the dais, looking particularly nervous. And at the bottom of that same dais stood the two remaining members of Thor's quarter of friends... they all stared at all of us when we stepped in, especially Loki and I; and Sif couldn't seem to be able to hold back her reaction the moment she laid eyes on me:

"You?!" She cried out in obvious shock. "What the...?"

"Hello..." I couldn't help the half-smirk that appeared on my own face. "Didn't expect to see me again? I thought I would drop by, it's always a pleasure to meet with a fan..."

"You know..." She blurted out, still too shocked to control herself.

"That you've been, like a terribly obsessed, stalking fan? Always." I finished for her, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "I've always known. Now... now I remember." My voice turned dark. "I cannot help but wonder what the wondrous Lady Sif, the Goddess of War, might have wanted with little old me...? After all, I'm nothing more than a human girl..."

"You're a witch!" Sif cried out, almost completely out-of-control.

"Oh... that's a new one." I admitted, blinking. "Sad to disappoint you, but I'm a 100% human, I do know a witch, though... and others that have been called that, among many other things."

"What is the meaning of this?!" Odin's commanding voice interrupted the spat.

"Oh... why did you have to interrupt?" Loki asked cheekily. "It was just beginning to get interesting! I had never seen the Lady Sif lose control in such a way!"

As if on cue, Sif let out a hiss again.

"Brother..." Thor murmured warningly.

"Fine, fine..." Loki waved the matter aside. "Lets get on with things, shall we?"

It was strange, how witnessing a breakdown from me, being subjected to over-emotional ranting (once again from me), eavesdropping on a considerably personal conversation (between Loki and I) and a battle had somehow managed to do what so many other efforts had failed to: bring the two brothers together again. I didn't fully understand, but it still made me absolutely ecstatic; I knew better than most how much Loki truly cared for his brother, and I realized how much it meant to my Maverick to have him back.

"I come with great tidings!" Thor announced formally. "The army of the enemy has been defeated, it's leader sent back to the shadows from which it came... and with the blessing of the Higher Powers, I've been given the chance of bringing family back with me..."

"What is he doing here then...?" Sif hissed under her breath.

"Wasn't Loki the one leading the army?" Volstagg asked at the same time, half-drowning Sif's negative comment.

"Yes and no." Thor seemed to be having trouble explaining things.

"I was given control of the army only as long as I was useful to its true leader." Loki explained with no hesitation. "Once he learnt of my true intentions, my true allegiances, he sent his own Second in Command to take charge, and to try and eliminate me." He made a pause before adding. "I have a scar on my side that proves it. And we were thrown off a flying fortress once."

"And I was thrown off Stark's Tower too." I reminded him calmly.

"Who are you?" Fandral finally blurted out.

I could see he wasn't the only one wondering; while those who knew tensed up.

"Right." I couldn't help the almost condescending smile that appeared on my face, or the dark tone of my voice. "You don't know, because you weren't part of the 'honor guard' that was tasked with destroying my life three years ago..."

"Destroying..." The Queen gasped in disbelief.

"My apologies, Your Majesty." I made a point of curtsying respectfully before her, while ignoring everyone else.

In the back of my head Loki was laughing.

"Allow me to introduce myself." I went on. "My name is Silbhé Arianna Salani, I am human, from Midgard, a scholar in the topics of History, Literature and Mythology. I have also been a singer for the last year, the Songstress, my public calls me. However, and perhaps most important in the present company. I have known and been a friend to your youngest son, Loki, for the last nine years; he gave me the name of Nightingale."

"The Lady Nightingale..." Frigg breathed in wonder. "I used to hear your name a lot child, Loki was always talking about you. Until three years ago..."

She stopped,probably remembering what I'd mentioned about my life being destroyed, exactly three years before...

"It would seem you were not made aware of a few things, my lady." I told her, still respectful of her, and completely ignoring the others. "But I imagine it was painful for my Maverick to talk about me when so much had been ruined between us." She seemed to be about to defend her son, but I stopped her. "It was in no way his doing, I assure you. To be perfectly honest with you, my Queen, I care deeply for your son. There is no one more dear for me than him. However, that did not stop certain events." I took a deep breath before finally revealing. "Three years ago my home was invaded, a group of people with the sole mission of robbing me of my memories. They violated me, my mind, stole that which wasn't theirs, that which I would have never given up willingly. They destroyed my life..."

Frigg looked absolutely scandalized; that, along with the way she'd been acting since first seeing me, told me she'd known nothing about what had happened to me. An instinct told me she would have never allowed it, had she known...

"And yet here you stand..." Sif huffed angrily.

"And yet here I stand." I agreed with a growing smile. "Did you really think I would just give up? That I would lay down and surrender? Let you take my memories, pieces of my own mind and heart, and do nothing about it? Did you think I would not fight?"

"But you didn't!" Sif yelled at me. "You just sat there... crying, like a..."

"Like a sad little girl?" I finished for her. "I may be human, but I'm not stupid. Nor am I weak!"

"You had taken precautionary measures..." Hogun mumbled, being the first to understand it, as he stared at me and then Loki. "Both of you."

"Of course." Loki smirked. "Like my Nightingale so aptly put it just a couple of days ago, I am a very good strategist..."

"The mage said there very few memories." Hogun spoke up right then. "And yet the lady just said she's known you for nine years... there weren't few memories because of how little you knew each other, but because you had taken them away already, protected them..."

"Yes." Loki didn't bother trying to hide it.

"I was still affected by it all." I added with a sigh. "But at least it gave us a chance, this chance, to get my memories back."

"That should have never happened." Sif grumbled. "An order was given..."

"True." I narrowed my eyes at her. "And I cannot help but wonder what order brought you to Earth, made you stalk me, time and again over the last years..."

That shut her up. It was as I suspected: her actions hadn't been ordered, or authorized. It felt good, like a small victory; what I never expected was the moment the Queen spoke, and not to us, but to her husband...

"Did you..." She shook her head. "You ordered a young girl's mind raped just because she was our son's friend?"

Her voice never rose, but the tone was chastising enough. I could only wince internally, sensed Loki doing the same; and from the corner of my eye I saw Thor actually, physically, wincing.

"The rules state..." Odin began.

"To hell with the rules!" Frigg snapped. "I would understand the necessity of such measures if the individual in question meant a threat of some kind, to either Asgard or even just our son. But what kind of threat could a child be?!"

"She knew too much..." Odin began, still trying to justify himself.

"Most of what I knew, I learnt through research." I couldn't stop myself from pointing out. "I did explain already I have a degree in mythology... while it's true that Loki told me a few things, a lot I would have known with or without him."

No need for them to know that without Loki I probably would have never been interested in studying mythology...

"You say she knows too much..." Loki added strongly. "What about the people of that human organization, S.H.I.E.L.D., who sent their warriors to fight with Thor? Or all the civilians who witnessed the battle a couple of days ago? And the ones from that town in the desert last year? A great many people know about Thor, and I, about Asgard by now, and none of that is in any way related to Nightingale..."

"Most of it is still your fault." Fandral accused. "You were the one attacking..."

"I wasn't the one who decided to exile Thor, least of all to a town in Midgard, when he knows nothing at all about that realm, or about humans!" Loki retorted.

"And you do?" Fandral snapped.

"Of course I do!" That surprised a few. "I've been visiting Midgard with relative frequency for centuries. How do you think I met Nightingale in the first place?"

"It was still your fault Thor was exiled..." Sif hissed. "You provoked it... you planned it!"

I actually had to blinked at that one; Thor looked at his friend wide eyed.

"Pardon me..." Even Loki was in disbelief.

"Everything that happened was your fault." Sif insisted. "You let the Jotun in..."

"Yes, but..." My love tried to explain.

"See!" Sif interrupted him.

Finally, my love lost his patience. With a wave of his hand Sif lost her voice, then, ignoring her wild waving and voiceless threats, he proceeded to his explanation:

"If anyone wants this to go on some kind of record, feel free to take notes, for this is the only time I will be explaining any of this." My love warned. "Now then. When f... the Allfather announced Thor would be made King I knew it was a bad idea. Thor was too immature, wild, dangerous, to take the throne. He loved war too much, and that was a risk to Asgard as a whole. I tried to make people see how bad an idea it was but, of course, no one would listen to me. They all claimed I was jealous." He snorted. "As if. That would require me being interested in being King myself."

"Are you saying you weren't?" Hogun seemed intrigued.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Loki nodded. "Being King requires one being constantly in the limelight, being the object of public scrutiny. I much prefer to conduct my actions in private, act from the shadows. So no, I was never interested in being King."

"Yet you were." Fandral insisted. "For a short time, but you were."

"True." Loki shook his head, going back to his explanation. "When no one would hear my warnings about the consequences of Thor being crowned King as he was at the time, I decided to be more proactive. If no one would believe my words, they would believe Thor's actions. I went to Jotunheim in secret, I didn't have to do much, just a comment here and there and some of the more wild Frost Giants were all for invading Asgard. I then guided them to an entrance to the Hidden Roads. I myself traveled through the Shadow Paths, keeping myself occluded from Heimdall's sight at all times."

"And you occluded the Jotun." Volstagg added.

"That is untrue." Loki denied. "I aided them in finding their way into the realm, but it was through no action of mine that they managed to get as far as they did. Some guard should have seen them, stopped them, much sooner..."

"So your strategy failed..." Fandral almost huffed.

"I always knew that, if everything else failed, the Destroyer would take care of things." Loki corrected. "However, like I said, they should have never gotten that far."

"You got the idea of going to Jotunheim into Thor's head." Hogun pointed out.

"True." Loki nodded immediately. "Doesn't mean you all had to agree, especially since you knew it was an insane plan. Ignoring that, we should have never actually gotten as far as we did. I told that servant in the stables to warn the Allfather of what was going on, and then I planed on distracting Heimdall, and all of you, long enough for the whole plan to be ruined. And then... there Heimdall was, letting us through before I could even say a word! Why is it that everyone focuses on the things I did wrong and no one stops to consider what other people do? There was, after all, a Royal Order that there was to be no traveling to Jotunheim. Heimdall should have never allowed us to go, yet he did, he didn't even try to stop us. If I didn't know his loyalty to Asgard is without reproach his mere actions would have raised red flags in my mind. After all, we could have ended all dead! And he knew that!"

That certainly seemed to get everyone thinking.

"Even when we got to Jotunheim, I tried everything I could to avoid a confrontation." Loki went on. "It almost worked too. Until Laufey went and insulted Thor, and he in turn reacted as childlishly and recklessly as could be expected. Thankfully, the Allfather arrived before any of us could get killed. Once back in Asgard there was an argument, that ended with Thor being exiled to Midgard, with no Mjolnir, and no powers."

"And you will tell us now you didn't plan that?" Sif huffed. "Didn't you declare just a short while ago what a great strategist you are?"

I wasn't sure if the magic muting her had run out, Loki had released her, or someone else had (maybe Odin?) I still did not like it; but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Pardon me if it never crossed my mind that the Allfather would choose that of all days to actually be a father!" Loki snapped before he could control himself. "It's not like it was the first time Thor did something monumentally idiotic. He'd never been punished for any of those stunts. So how was I to know it would come to that?! Also, you will forgive me if I was a bit off my game, after all, I'd just seen my arm turn blue at the touch of a fricking Jotun!"

The shock that followed that declaration was almost tangible.

"Wha...? You... But that would mean you are..." None of the Warriors Three seemed capable of stringing a full sentence together.

It took my beloved a few seconds to actually comprehend what that shock meant; he instantly spun to face his brother.

"You didn't tell them..." He whispered with a half broken voice.

"No, I didn't." Thor half-smiled at Loki. "And even if I had, it wouldn't change a thing. No matter what happens, you will always be my brother, Loki..."

I smiled brightly at that, the love that I felt inside me, a good deal of it the echo of what Loki himself was feeling, making me almost giddy.

"As I was saying." My Maverick even seemed a tad more animated as he continued the story. "Thor was sent to Midgard. The next day I slipped unseen into the Weapon's Vault, a touch to the Casket of Ancient Winters confirmed what I'd felt deep inside since that moment when the Jotun had touched me in Jotunheim and my arm had gone blue... I was Jotun. The Allfather arrived, we argued about my origins, adoption, and whatever made him think it was a good idea not to tell me the truth about myself... it's not as if it could have stayed a secret forever! It would have come out sooner or later." He shook his head. "Then the Allfather fell into the Odinsleep and, surprise surprise, I suddenly found myself named King by Right of Succession." He let out a tired breath. "I came pretty close to refusing, actually."

A gasp followed that declaration; even when he'd stated before that he'd never been interested in being King, some people still didn't understand... not when they saw the position for the honor and the fame it brought; they didn't see the responsibility, the weight, the hardships... the very same that had possibly pushed Odin to having to choose between being a King or a father. His realm had probably benefited from his choice, but his family, his sons especially...

"Like I said before, I was never interested in the throne." Loki reminded everyone. "I knew, long before the Allfather made the announcement, that I would never be King. And once I had that realization, and I accepted it, that was that. But then... then an idea came to my mind. What if I could use the Right of Succession to prove myself? Maybe if I showed everyone, if I showed my Father that I could be a good King, I would finally have his trust. Not to be made his heir, not that. I did not care for that. Once I learnt the truth of my parentage I knew there was just no way it could ever be possible, but I didn't care, as it was never my aim. No, instead, I couldn't help but think that if I managed to do things right, maybe then he would be proud of me, like he'd never been before. He would see me as worthy; would see what I could do, rather than just the ways in which I couldn't be like Thor. And maybe, just maybe, I would be able to convince him to allow me to bring Nightingale to Asgard with me, as my bride..."

I let out a breath and closed my eyes, even knowing they would all be turning to look at me right then. I'd known that was coming. It'd come up in conversation between the two of us the night before. Stark had allotted us a suite, ignoring the wide eyes from several people; he stated we were meant to be together, and everyone could either deal with it, or get going, no one said a word about it, even my Aunt gave her blessing. We hadn't done anything beyond kissing, sleeping in each other's arms, and talking... and what a talk it had been!

" _I know you, my Nightingale..." He said at some point. "You know the dangers of accompanying me to Asgard to face Odin, and yet you're still going to do it."_

" _Where you go, I go." I assured him with no hesitation._

" _I know." He nodded, taking my hands in his. "I won't even try to make you change your mind. I know what an insult that would be for you, not respecting your choices. I do want you to promise me one thing: just as I allow you to make your choices, allow me mine. Our lives are entwined, let that stand. No matter what Odin says, what he may threaten, do not unlock the deamarkonian. We either live together or we die together, agreed?"_

_For an instant I felt a knot inside, or like someone had punched me, stealing my breath. A second later I recovered, and I knew there was only one right answer to that. He'd said it before, after all, anything else would be an insult, a disrespect to the other's choices._

" _Together, forever." I agreed, kissing his knuckles._

" _Thank you." He imitated my gesture._

_For a while neither of us said anything until, suddenly, he let go of my hands. He pulled a chain from beneath the neckline of his tunic, revealing for the first time the nightingale pendant. In the next instant he dropped to one knee, my breath caught in my throat..._

" _I know that Midgardian tradition has rings as betrothal presents, but somehow this seemed more fitting." He stated as he offered me the necklace. "Will you be mine, and allow me to be yours, for the rest of eternity?"_

" _Yes." There was no hesitation, no doubt in my mind, there could have never been._

_I dropped to my knees then, entwining our hands, with the pendant pressed between our palms; then I proceeded to kiss him with everything I had._

We decided we would get married when we returned (when, not if, we would rather not consider the alternative). I actually remembered that Fury had told Thor that it would be a good thing if both Loki and I made it back; especially since he wasn't too sure how open the X-Men would be to an allegiance if I ended up dead... I thought he was exaggerating, it's not like I was that important, I wasn't even a mutant!

"So I took the throne." My love went on. "I knew it wouldn't be for long. Though, to be perfectly honest, I thought the end would come when the Allfather woke up and reclaimed his throne. I had not considered Thor regaining his abilities any time soon. I will admit that when I lied to him, telling him his Father was dead, I did it for selfish reasons. I felt I was losing my family, due to finding out the truth of my parentage, and I wanted him to feel at least a little bit of what I was feeling... aside from that I tried to be the best King I could be in the time I was allowed... I tried to convince Laufey to make a truce, he refused. I realized then that the only way to stop further conflict would be to take out those that would provoke the conflict..."

"So you decided to assassinate him." Hogun nodded.

"A bit extreme, I know, but it was the best plan I had, a plan I could put into action in the little time I expected to have." He shrugged at his admittance. "I made him think I would let him kill the Allfather. He was so desperate to do exactly that, it never occurred to him that I was setting him up for his own death instead..." He shook his head. "It went beautifully... even if I was a bit late." He bowed his head to his mother in apology. "What I never planned on, was the multiple betrayal; though on hindsight, I should have. After all, they were Thor's friends, not mine, never mine." He didn't even look at them. "They decided that I was evil. That I had done everything to steal the throne from Thor. And then they went against my orders, and after him. And Heimdall decided that the fact that I held Gungnir and had been given the title of King still wasn't a good enough reason to follow my orders. No... because, since I wasn't really Odinson, I didn't deserve the throne, therefore disobeying my orders could not constitute an act of treason."

He spat the last part, and I couldn't help the righteous anger that filled me inside. How could my love have ever had any hope of proving himself, when those around kept refusing to even give him a chance to do so? It was unfair!

"And what about the Destroyer?" Sif demanded. "You sent that thing to kill us!"

"I sent it to cause material destruction, and to stop you from returning." Loki clarified. "Honestly, if I'd wanted you dead, you would have died, period. I only needed to stall you, I couldn't have you getting back to Asgard before I had finished dealing with Laufey. Also, the way I saw it, the only way you would get past the Destroyer would be with Thor regaining his power, and I could not see any way he would be able to achieve that in such a short time... I apparently had forgotten the effect certain amazing humans can have in people like he and I, I also underestimated that Thor would find someone who would change him, make him a better man, like Nightingale did with me when we met..."

I could see the smile in Thor's face, he was thinking about his Jane...

"When Thor arrived, all righteous anger and ready for battle I realized I had lost." My love shook his head. "No, it was more like, I never had a chance at winning. I realized then that it didn't matter how hard I tried, nothing I did would ever be enough... Thor was so angry, I knew he would never believe I'd had good intentions. He wouldn't even stop to listen. So I gave him the fight he wanted. I got a little suicidal at some point, I'll admit; until I remembered Nightingale... I had actually been watching her earlier that day, the first time she sang before a crowd. She was so beautiful, and hurting so much... I didn't understand how no one else could see it." He kissed the back of my hand. "But right then I realized that if I let myself die, all our past efforts, all our years of friendship, would mean nothing. I couldn't give up, for her if not for myself. When I was hanging off the Rainbow Bridge, when the Allfather said no... it was the confirmation of what I already knew; I wasn't good enough, I would never be good enough. But I realized also, I didn't care anymore, I didn't need to be good enough for him, or for Asgard; the only people who mattered were those who truly cared for me. So I stopped caring about Asgard, and I let go." He shook his head, almost sadly. "The plan was to use the Shadow Paths and slip to Earth unnoticed. However, the fight with Thor had left me worse off than I'd first thought; I didn't manage to slip into the shadows in time, instead I got lost in the abyss. Eventually I crash landed on what must have been a planet, or a moon, a very long time ago."

"You survived in the abyss..." Hogun seemed shocked.

"Well yes, I'm alive right now after all." Loki pointed the obvious.

"Who else would survive in a place like that?" Volstagg inquired, unsure.

"The chitauri, of course, their lieutenant: the Other, a creature with no identity of his own." Loki began enlisting. "And their leader... the Mad Titan, Thanos."

We waited a second, two, three... waited for the denial we were sure would come, either from Odin or the other Asgardians... except it never did. Even Thor was surprised.

"You knew he was real!" Thor cried out in a mix of surprise and horror. "You knew Thanos was alive, yet you allowed us all to believe him to be nothing but a myth! A child's tale!"

"Some things you just weren't ready to know, some things the universe as a whole wasn't ready to acknowledge..." Odin tried to explain.

I couldn't help myself, I snorted.

"Some people just weren't ready to admit they weren't all-powerful." I pointed out before I could change my mind.

"Have more respect, child." Odin demanded.

"Respect?!" I hissed back at him, uncaring of the dangers. "To the man who ordered my mind destroyed simply because he didn't like that I was friends with his son?! I was seventeen years old! I was a child! Have you any idea how many times I thought of killing myself, just so I wouldn't have to keep feeling that emptiness in my soul?! You caused that! I don't care if you sent someone else to do your dirty work, or if in the end it was Loki who had to take my memories, to keep them safe. It was ultimately your fault! You caused this! You are no man, and certainly no god, you are little more than a monster!"

Odin got on his feet at that, livid, a moment away from attacking me probably; however, before he could do anything, two people reacted: Loki slipped out of his chains in an instant, moving to a defensive position right in front of me. The most surprising, however, was his mother, Odin's own wife, who went to stand between her husband and us.

"Stop." She ordered in her quiet voice, so full of power. "You will not hurt this child anymore... I forbid it." She shook her head sadly. "I no longer know who you are Odin... you are not the man I knew when we married, the man I loved... that man would have never violated a girl's mind just for 'knowing too much', he would have never chosen one son over another, or been so willing to see one of those sons dead... I know not who you are anymore..."

Abruptly, the feeling of the whole meeting seemed to shift. Something I could feel deep in my bones, in my soul, a tension so thick I almost couldn't breath...

"Everything I have done, I did for the greater good..." Odin stated almost arrogantly.

Once again, I couldn't help myself, I snorted; right at the same time my own chains hit the floor (I chose to discard them when seeing Loki free).

"You know, I once read a series of novels, with a character who claimed everything he did was for the greater good." I told him coldly. "So many questionable, at times downright cruel things he did, people he let die, sometimes even pretty much lead to their own deaths... but it was supposed to be alright, because it was for the greater good. To this day I don't know if he was evil, or just downright stupid. In the end, who was he, who are you, who are any of us, to decide who lives and who dies? None of us are gods, and I care not what mythology might claim about you Asgardians. Each individual has the right to sacrifice only one life, their own. Anything else is a crime of the worst kind... you chose to sacrifice me, for reasons I care not to understand, you chose to do the same to one of your sons, by favoring the other so blatantly; and in the end you sacrificed both your sons, your family as a whole, all supposedly for Asgard. Was it really worth it? Will it be worth it when you reach the end of your existence alone, forsaken by those you chose to forsake first?" I shook my head sadly. "Regardless of how it might seem. I can honestly say I do not hate you. Not really. You might have hurt me, deeply, but I've recovered what I once lost. You never will..."

For the longest time, not a word was said and when finally someone spoke it was Frigg, her voice still quiet and full of all authority; it was a reminder that she wasn't just Odin's wife, she was a Goddess, a Warrior and a Queen all in her own right...

"I believe it might be time for a new ruler to rise." She announced, having turned to face us, she looked over her shoulder, at her husband, just briefly. "For the greater good of Asgard, and all the realms under our protection... Heimdall..."

"Of course my Queen." Came the reply from the Gatekeeper, from behind us all. "Shall I make the announcement that Prince Thor will be taking the throne in the morrow?"

It looked like the Queen was about to agree, when she was interrupted by the least expected person (not Odin): Thor himself.

"Wait." She faced his mother. "I agree the time for a new ruler has come, and not only that, but also a new rule... and, Mother, we both know there is only one person right for that."

Frigg smiled at her oldest son at that; I still didn't understand what that meant. Though, as Thor ascended the steps of the dais to reach Frigg, I knew that whatever was coming was important, very much so, and then the God of Thunder spoke:

"I, Thor Odinson, Friggson, Crown Prince of Asgard, hereby surrender any and all claim to the Throne of Asgard, as well as to the power and responsibility of the station." He stated strongly.

A pin could have been heard falling in that moment, the silence was that absolute. I thought Thor must be absolutely crazy, how could he just... give up? I didn't realize that he wasn't finished just yet, not with his announcements, or the surprises...

"As my last act as Crown Prince I wish to name my successor, to be approved by Her Majesty the Queen... I nominate my brother by word and deed and vow, Loki, to be Crown Prince, Heir Apparent and the next King of Asgard. I trust that, with the aid of the Higher Powers, he will do the throne justice, and make us all proud... No, he already has..."

All hell broke loose following that declaration.

**xXx**

A week later Thor, Loki and I stepped out of the shadows together. They were in their usual Asgardian clothing, while I was wearing a violet velvet dress to the floor with long, tight-to-the-elbow, bell-like sleeves, golden accents and golden slippers. We arrived straight on the viewing deck of Stark Tower. The place had been completely fixed in the last seven days; in fact, most of the downtown New York area, the part that had been affected by the battle, seemed to have returned to normal almost completely. I couldn't help but admire the people, their resiliency... of course it wasn't the first time something out of the ordinary happened, but still.

We'd decided to arrive there because, as we'd discovered during one of Loki's magical sweeps of the area, that was where most of them were. The Avengers had chosen to stick around after Stark offered them rooms in the high floors of the tower; even Jane, Darcy, Phil and Aunt Kathryn had stayed (Dr. Selvig had been offered a suite as well, but chose to leave). And it wasn't hard to send a message the day before so Rogue and Wolverine would meet us there that day as well. After all, there was a lot to talk about and little time to do it.

As it happened, we arrived right as they were all sitting for lunch. Prepared by the joint efforts of Steve Rogers (Captain America), Dr. Bruce Banner (Hulk) and Aunt Kathryn. There were all kinds of things being prepared: fruit, french toast, omelets, even pancakes; along with pitchers full of juice and pots of coffee, tea; Loki and I got mugs of hot chocolate (Aunt Kathryn knew how much I loved my chocolate, and could guess that I had shared my obsession with him).

The lunch went pretty well. I could see how delighted Jane was at having Thor back so soon, and Darcy took turns between teasing them and talking to Agent Coulson. As I learnt during the easy talk, Phil had been chosen to be the Avengers' handler, that was alright, since his only direct subordinates were actually Hawkeye and Black Widow, both of whom had officially joined the team. Aunt Kathryn had been offered her rank back, either working directly for Fury, or as a possible liaison with the X-Men, if they managed to finish the details of the allegiance. Darcy had also been offered a job as Phil's assistant, especially since Jane would be staying to work directly for Stark's Industry (as Stark was more interested in furthering her work, while S.H.I.E.L.D. only wanted to keep control).

Eventually we were finished with lunch and the whole group moved to the sitting room, some of us carrying glasses with water, juice or mugs with tea, coffee or chocolate.

"Alright, we've been avoiding the topic since Reindeer Games, Point Break and Miss Songstress arrived but, what exactly happened in your Golden Kingdom?" Stark asked as soon as he sat.

"I don't know if I'm the only one who's noticed this but, why does Loki keep shooting these looks at Thor, like he wants to kill him?" Darcy asked bluntly. "I thought the problems were over... that we were all friends now..."

Several people in the room snorted, but no one said a word.

"The big oaf I call a brother thought it was a good idea to surrender all claims to the Throne of Asgard, though, of course, not without naming me his heir first!" Loki snapped at the end.

"What?!" No one was expecting that.

"Thor..." Jane's whisper somehow broke through everyone's shock.

"It was the right thing to do." Thor stated, not for the first time. "Between the two of us, Loki has always been the better one at politics, diplomacy, history, everything that is connected to ruling."

"You forget I'm not a warrior." Loki replied, also not for the first time. "And Asgard is a realm of Warriors, above all else."

"You're the best kind of warrior." The blonde god contradicted. "One who thinks before acting, who chooses his battles, who plans... who thinks of others before himself."

"He who has no wish for power is the only one who truly deserves it." Stark declared suddenly with an almost solemn tone of voice.

"That sounded almost...poetic." Steve commented thoughtfully.

There were several nods of people all around.

"I think I read that phrase somewhere, once." Tony shrugged. "It seemed fitting, somehow. Loki said, more than once, that he had no interest in being King, even though he understands, probably better than most, what it means to be one. And that's precisely why he deserves it. He has so little interest in wielding that power, it's unlikely he'll ever abuse it..."

"I agree." Thor nodded. "It's why I chose him to be King..."

"What does that mean for you?" Jane asked her beloved quietly.

"It means that I no longer hold any political power, or responsibility." Thor said, to her and to everyone else present. "I suppose it also means that, if the next King so chooses, what power I still possess can be stripped of me, I can be made human again, this time permanently..."

"Ah ah, no, never." Loki shook his head empathically. "You may have gotten your way in passing the throne to me, but there's no way you're leaving me to deal with Asgard for the rest of eternity on my own. I'm not stupid, a lot of people will not accept my ruling; you saw how some reacted during that announcement last week! And I bet things will get even worse for the coronation!" His voice got lower, softer, though no less truthful. "I need you, brother..."

"Maybe at first." Thor smiled softly at him. "But not always."

"Yes, always." Loki insisted, allowing some vulnerability to show.

"But Jane..." Thor whispered worriedly.

Back when we'd still been an Asgard, after Loki had finally stopped yelling and ranting at Thor for doing something as idiotic as pushing him to become King without asking permission, or even giving any warning whatsoever; Thor had explained his reasons. He'd witnessed first hand his brother's pain after our separation, years before; he'd seen me as well and, probably most importantly of all: he'd witnessed our reunion. The last thing he wanted was for Jane and him to be forcefully separated as well, for her to one day suffer the absence of her memories like I did; or even if that never happened, just to have to be separated for long periods of time... After Odin's crimes had become known Thor had realized his father would never allow him to take Jane as his bride, as his Queen; and he'd decided he would rather he human and with Jane, than a god and a king, without her.

"We have a plan for that." I piped in.

And we did. It was actually Loki's plan, since he actually knew Jane enough to make one; but I'd helped refine it; and spent hours translating all the necessary information, as a lot of it was in Norse, and she would need it in English.

"Here." I placed a file in front of her.

"What...?" She needed only to read a few lines to know what it was he held. "Oh Lord!"

"What is that?" Stark was really curious, as always.

"Everything the library in Asgard's palace held on the Bifrost." I answered, then clarified. "Well, no. That file is more like the cliff-notes version, we have a box full of the full version. Some of the older things were in Old Norse, I translated it, but if there's something you don't think fits, ask us, technical language is not my forte, especially not in something this specialized, and then there's the fact that it's been years since I did any serious translating work... but I did my best."

"I wanna see that..." Stark murmured, completely interested.

"Why are you giving me this?" Jane knew there must be a reason.

"As Loki said, we cannot let Thor go, we need him." I explained with a smile. "Therefore, the logical thing is to get you to be with him. The Bifrost is destroyed, as I'm sure you already know; if you can find a way to repair it, something no one in Asgard has been able to solve yet, you will be granted immortality."

Jane could only look at us wide-eyed.

"Brother!" Thor was beyond delighted. "Is that true?!"

"Of course it is." Loki smiled at him. "I am to be King, after all, I can do a good thing for the person who put me there..." His expression softened a bit. "And I'm sure you would do the same for my Nightingale and I..."

We knew it had never actually occurred to Thor, but it didn't matter; we were still sure that if passing on the throne hadn't been a possibility, some kind of plan, either one like ours or something entirely different, would have occurred to him eventually.

"I will do it." Jane announced, steel in her eyes. "I will find a way."

I didn't doubt it. Truly, there were few stronger motivations for a woman than her love...

"So, if I've understood everything correctly, your man here will be crowned King in a week." Wolverine stated, looking straight at me.

"Actually... the correct statement would be to say We will be crowned in a week." I clarified, blushing brightly. "I am to be his consort..."

No one seemed the slightest bit surprised by that however, someone focused on one particular detail, one I, honestly, wasn't expecting.

"What about the wedding?" Rogue inquired.

I shrugged. I honestly hadn't thought about it. Considering that once we became King and Queen it was unlikely we would ever return... I hadn't even considered marrying on Earth. Though the expression on not only Rogue's face, but also Aunt Kathryn's told me I should have.

"Alright!" Stark called unexpectedly. "We have seven days to plan a wedding... Jarvis!"

I was speechless, especially when his AI began calling names of ministers, caterers, florists, dress designers, everything! I didn't even think about stopping him, especially not when most of the women in the room began giving their opinions on the matter, even Rogue! I may not be very interested in a formal wedding, but it somehow seemed important to them. It reminded me of something I'd read once: 'the marriage is for the spouses, but the wedding is for the family'. Also, I couldn't help but feel giddy at the mere thought of actually getting to stand before my family and friends and vow to love Loki for the rest of time...

So, we had a week to plan my wedding. And like someone pointed out eventually: I also needed to find a way to make the Songstress disappear...

**xXx**

When I had decided to follow Loki to Asgard, I'd seen the possible futures, my possible futures, in a rather simplistic manner: I either lived or died, and it applied to the both of us. Odin could choose to act against me, and I had already decided I wouldn't be surrendering again, I would rather die, and so we both would. Odin could also condemn Loki for his actions, both in the year before and in the last few days, ignoring my love's intentions; the Allfather could condemn him to death, and again we would both die. If there were some kind of 'mercy', Odin could decide to strip my Maverick of power, rendering human and vulnerable; the strength of a human wouldn't keep the Cancer in my blood at bay for long, we probably would have a few months, maybe even a year... but in the end we would still have died. One of the 'brightest' possibilities was if they allowed us to remain as we were, we would go on to live as a couple for years, until the day I died (hopefully of old age) and Loki would go with me. Quite morbid, perhaps, thinking so much about death, about all the possible ways and reasons why I would die; but after the darkness I'd lived in for the last three years I just couldn't help myself. Of course, there was always the almost impossible chance: for me to be given a chance to prove myself, to earn my immortality, then we would have had forever together. I never put much hope in the last chance... and it certainly never occurred to me what ended up happening. It was never a possibility in my mind.

After the shock passed, for the most part, I began to actually get involved in the planning of my wedding. When the wedding dress was first mentioned I had one thought: my mother's wedding dress, it was beautiful, I'd seen the pictures, and at one point I'd imagined myself in it. However, the women insisted that I wasn't my mother, and my wedding wasn't hers, I deserved my own dress. With the Stark name and the Salani money behind me (the last only because Aunt Kathryn took offense when Tony tried to pay, stating we had no need for such; still his name did help) we got a little known, but very talented, seamstress to make a dress to my tastes and in my exact size: it was absolutely beautiful.

During those days of planning I also couldn't help but notice the looks some of the women gave either me, the pictures, or the things we surrounded ourselves with. There was the redheaded Agent, Natasha Romanoff, who claimed to have no interest in such things; and yet had been in a strong, committed relationship with her partner for years. There was Jane, the woman who'd learnt that a man she'd known for such little time, yet loved deeply, had been willing to give up everything he had and knew to be with her; and then, in turn, been offered the chance to be with him instead, for them to have the best of both worlds. And then there was Pepper, Virginia Potts, though she insisted we call her Pepper; she was Tony's former assistant, CEO of Stark Industries and also Tony's girlfriend... and judging by the looks she kept giving everything, I had a feeling that if Stark was half the genius he claimed, he would be popping the question and offering her a ring sometime soon...

Aunt Kathryn was a whole other matter, I had never seen her with anyone, but I knew she'd been in love once... There was a small, delicate sculpture of a sphinx on a corner of her vanity table. I knocked it to the floor once, accidentally, when I was twelve or thirteen; I'd been terrified that I'd broken it, instead I discovered it opened, like a secret jewelry box. There was one single piece of jewelry inside: a heart-shaped piece of white sea glass, wire-wrapped with a silver key charm, it rested on a titanium chain long enough for the pendant to end up hidden between a woman's breasts. Also, along with the necklace was a very small piece of yellowed paper, with a single sentence handwritten:  _For my Sphinx, my Princess of the Nile..._  I'd never dared ask Aunt Kathryn about the necklace, or the man, though a part of me couldn't help but wonder what could possibly have been able to separate them...

On Monday I sat in a meeting between Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Ororo Munroe-Wagner, Kurt Wagner, Raven Darkholme, Emma Frost, Logan Howlett, Marie Howlett, Moira MacTaggert, Nicholas Fury, Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, Victoria Hand, Jasper Sitwell, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Kathryn Adler (newly reinstated), Darcy Lewis (newly instated), Jane, Thor and Loki, to create an allegiance. So many powerful individuals... not only the 'gods', mutants and super-soldier, but also the humans. That sort of cooperation was something that had never been seen before, which I knew some never expected to be possible; and yet it was.

In the end, the impossible was not only possible (both in the allegiance and on more personal matters, like my wedding), but somehow they even managed to make it look easy. Loki and I got married in the backyard of my family home in Portland, Maine on Friday. The guests included everyone I had befriended in the Institute (the X-Men as well as a few students), the Avengers, the highest ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. members and a few new friends I'd made since Stuttgart.

The only 'shadow' on the day was my father's absence; apparently one week wasn't enough time to get away from a wife, step-children and a job in Germany, not even to attend your first daughter's wedding... in the end I didn't really feel anything. It had been too long since I'd really connected with him; even after I'd lost my memories he'd hardly ever been there... and that absence was something I'd long since grown used to. In the end I ignored tradition and insisted on having my own Aunt, my mom, walking me down the aisle. Marie was my Maid of Honor, while Jane, Darcy, Pepper and Natasha served as my bridesmaids (and I don't even know how I managed to convince the last one).

The wedding was simple but very beautiful. The Minister allowed us to recite our own vows, rather than the more traditional ones; they weren't mere words, but part of the Ancient Rites, as Loki had explained to me, they would bond us in a way no normal ceremony could have ever managed. We would be together, truly, till the end of time.

"From this day on, you will be my only one. I shall look at no other the way I look at you, I shall think of no other the way I think about you, I shall talk to no other the way I talk to you, I shall desire no other the way I desire you, and I shall lay with no other the way I lay with you. I shall be with no other for you are now and forever shall be my one and only; my friend, my lover, my partner, my match…"

On Saturday morning I watched how my life as the Songstress ended, signed a few papers to make it all official, and sending all the money I'd made during my year and a half as a singer to a variety of charities I favored. And then it was over. We left for Asgard right after lunch. We knew papers would need to be filled upon arrival, confirming our bonding, and the next day at noon: our coronation as King and Queen of Asgard... the beginning of a whole new life...

From the very day I decided I would have to let go so many memories, knowledge, feelings, my connection to the person I held dearest; I never stopped believing that some day, somehow, everything would be alright... that day, as I stood beside my Maverick, my husband, my match, looking at a whole future, an eternity, knowing I would live it, truly, whole, and by his side... everything was worth it, and more perfect than I could have ever dared imagine...

**xXx 3** **rd** **Person POV xXx**

The host of the most viewed evening show in America was looking more than a bit confused when people all throughout the country saw her on Saturday night.

"As everyone knows, we had arranged for an interview with the internationally famous, well-loved and more than a little mysterious singer: Songstress." She spoke after a few seconds in silence. "However, due to unexpected developments, the interview won't be taking place as planned." There was mumbling from the people in the studio. "Some fans may already know this, as our dear singer of 'Echo' posted a letter of announcement followed by a video earlier today. For those who haven't the means or haven't had the opportunity to visit her website, I will explain: the Songstress has announced her retirement."

The mumbles from the people in studio, particularly the public, grew.

"I know, shocking." The host went on. "There are all kinds of theories flying around by now. Some claim it's a wild hoax, an attempt to get more fans, or maybe a marketing strategy, as there had been talk in recent weeks about a possible second album; others claim she's chosen to run away as she knows she wouldn't be able to pull off a second album. I may not be the Songstress's greatest fan, my viewers know I've made it a point to never religiously follow any one artist, so I can remain as objective when talking about them as I can. But having seen the kind of response both the letter and the video have had, in the less than twelve hours since they were posted, I can say, pretty objectively, that lack of fans cannot be the reason for this."

She waited for a few seconds before taking hold of a tablet in the table beside the couch where she sat, turning it to the camera. It showed a website that had a background of a rose garden. Several journal-like entries were enlisted on a side; the top held the topics of the different parts of the website: pictures, videos, journal, calendar, contact... it was the Songstress's website.

"I am sure almost everyone has seen already the video of the Songstress's appearance in the House of Art in Stuttgart." The host continued as the mentioned video began playing on a transparent screen that hung beside her. "After the violent events that gave an unexpected end to the night, there were fears that something might have happened to the singer. However, Ms. Salani was kind enough to send a press release announcing that her niece was quite alright and had simply chosen to go back home and rest for a few days before her next public appearance, here in New York. There were rumors she'd been in the very exclusive list of individuals invited to the grand-opening of Stark Tower. This, we were never able to confirm or deny. However, her next confirmed appearance was here, with us, tonight... and then this came up."

She touched several parts of the tablet and suddenly the website appeared on the screen beside her; except this time the focus wasn't the general layout, but instead what seemed to be the last journal entry: it was a letter. The host began reading it out-loud even as the screen rolled down so the people who chose to could follow the writing.

" _To all my dear fans: This might seem anticlimactic to some, and even ridiculous to more than a few. But even when I first began as a singer I never planned on doing this forever. I didn't plan on my career being this short either; but I guess that's the beauty of life, how unpredictable it can be. So, here it is, the great news: I'm leaving. This is no joke, hoax, or trick. I'm also not being coerced in any way, this is my choice, my will... I always knew that the day I decided I no longer wanted to be a singer, I would simply leave, I even said it in an interview early on. No, long speeches, no 'farewell tour', no extending imaginary deadlines forever, I would just go. When the time actually came I decided that wasn't actually fair, especially to my fans, you who have followed me so faithfully since my first single came out, almost nineteen months ago. So this is my goodbye, this and the video you will find at the end, but we will get to that."_

" _Jason and I had a very interesting talk shortly after we first met, on the day we signed the papers allowing me to take possession of one of his songs, make it mine, my main single... he understood me through that song, probably more than even I did at the time, certainly more than anyone but a few very special individuals did. He asked only one thing of me, before the papers were signed, he told me not to sing that song forever. He wanted me to promise that one day I would move on. Well, here it is Jason, the time has come. I can now hear more than my echo, see more than my shadow. I didn't expect that when I left that song behind I would be leaving everything behind, but I don't regret it either. I'm happy."_

" _In the past people asked me why my smile never reached my eyes, I never dared answer them, mainly because I didn't know the answer myself. Now I do. I wasn't really happy back then, I wasn't for the longest time. Now I am. And the reason for that happiness is also the reason why I've decided it's time to pack my bags and go."_

" _There's only really one thing left to say, the real reason I chose to write this letter in the first place, rather than just disappear from the face of the Earth... Thank you. To the man who believed that a depressed eighteen-year-old singing in a Karaoke Bar could be a famous singer; to the woman who never gave up on me and stayed by my side through everything, good and bad; to the fans who have faithfully followed my career from the moment the first single came out and to this very day; thank you all. From the bottom of my heart and soul. Everything I've achieved in the last year and a half would have been impossible without all of you. So Thank You, a thousand times over. Farewell..."_

For a few seconds not a sound was heard in the studio, it was as if everyone were too busy digesting the words that had just been read. The unexpected, but quite heartfelt goodbye of an artist no one expected to lose so soon.

"Videos of past interviews have confirmed the Songstress's words regarding what she said she would do if she ever decided to retire." The host spoke eventually. "Of course, at the time no one took it seriously. No one was really expecting for something like that to happen so soon, if at all." She pressed a hand to the ear-bud in her right ear before adding. "The people we have combing through the social networks have found a tweet from singer Jason Walker confirming the words exchanged in the conversation mentioned in the letter. He also expresses his happiness at the young singer finding a happiness that has made her willing to leave everything else behind, and states that every true fan of her will feel similarly. After all, what else can we ask of life but the chance to find true happiness, in whatever form it may take for each of us?"

Once again there was silence, though not a tense once, more like pondering, as people all around considered those words.

"With nothing further to say." The host spoke again after a minute or so. "We will close this segment with the farewell video prepared by the Songstress, it has already more than half a million views; and there is no doubt in my mind that number will grow exponentially in the days to come. So, here it goes. Farewell, Songstress... the Spell of your Voice will be missed..."

With those closing words the video began playing on the screen beside the host; though those watching the TV from their homes had the image take over their screens completely. It began with a close up of a pair of porcelain hands on the keys of a piano. Then the hands began to move swiftly, beautifully over the keys, weaving notes together, creating a melody never heard before. And after sixteen seconds of just the piano, a voice rose to join it, turning a melody into a song:

"As long as stars shine down from heaven  
And the rivers run into the sea  
Till the end of time forever  
You're the only love I'll need...  
In my life you're all that matters  
In my eyes the only truth I see  
When my hopes and dreams have shattered  
You're the one that's there for me..."

It was strange; even after nineteen months of her songs being heard, and a year of concerts, every fan could easily realize that there was something in the way the Songstress was singing that particular song... something they had never heard before... ever.

Ever so slowly the shot began opening, until the Songstress was finally revealed. No one could miss the fact that she was wearing a white dress, delicate and beautiful in its simplicity. Another very important detail was the wedding band around the fourth finger of her left hand. Added to the dress and the obvious topic of the song, so different from what the fans had gotten used to hearing from her, it made a lot of things make sense, like the reason for her retirement...

"When I found you I was blessed  
And I will never leave you  
I need you...

Imagine me without you  
I'd be lost and so confused  
I wouldn't last a day, I'd be afraid,

Without you there to see me through...

Imagine me without you  
Lord, you know it's just impossible  
Because of you it's all brand new  
My life is now worthwhile  
I can't imagine me without you..."

The camera moved to a side, allowing the viewers a good look of the dress the Songstress was wearing even as she focused on continuing playing the song. The expression on her face: the small smile, eyes half-closed; it was so peaceful... no one had seen her like that ever before.

"When you caught me I was falling  
Your love lifted me back on my feet  
It was like you heard me calling  
And you rushed to set me free..."

"When I found you I was blessed  
And I will never leave you  
I need you...  
Imagine me without you  
I'd be lost and so confused  
I wouldn't last a day, I'd be afraid,

Without you there to see me through  
Imagine me without you  
Lord, you know it's just impossible  
Because of you it's all brand new  
My life is now worthwhile  
I can't imagine me without you..."

And then the shot opened wider, to show quite clearly the black polished piano the Songstress was using to play the song. On the top of it laid a bouquet of white flowers, probably her wedding bouquet too. But most importantly perhaps, was the fact that the Songstress wasn't alone... standing beside the piano, half obscured by it until the shot opened enough, was a man that could be none other than the groom. Dressed simple but elegantly, all in white, like his bride, with dark, hair, somewhat long, brushed back carefully; his eyes, his whole attention, were on her... it was like the perfect wedding picture.

No one had any idea who the man was, beyond the quite obvious deduction of him being the groom. No one knew his name, his face was in no database, and no one remembered having ever seen him anywhere close to the Songstress... or anywhere at all really. Some would say it was one more layer added to the mystery of the famous (now retired) singer; others chose to focus on what seemed almost like some kind of fairytale romance... a dream romance.

"When I found you I was blessed  
And I will never leave you  
I need you... oh...  
Imagine me without you  
I'd be lost and so confused  
I wouldn't last a day without you there to see me through

Imagine me without you  
Lord, you know it's just impossible  
Because of you it's all brand new  
My life is now worthwhile  
I can't imagine me...

I can't imagine me without you..."

There was no more singing then, and ever so slowly the melody began descending into a close. Then, when the last note finally stopped echoing, the groom extended a hand, touching the bride on her chin, tipping her head up, then he bowed down just enough to connect their mouths in a simple, long and very tender kiss.

Then the screen went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next AU will be coming in three weeks. 
> 
> For those of you who might have read Menel. The first part of the series: Lokidottir, will be coming out in two weeks. Also, a fantrailer vid has been created by the awesome "Skye Coulson" over in Ffnet and I hope she'll be uploading that sometime this weekend. 
> 
> And I'm still waiting on your opinions regarding how I should handle X-Men in the main timeline. Right now my main idea is a time-travel fix-it (either in First Class or Days of Future Past -depending on how the second goes). But I wanna know what you think I should do. I also plan on writing on the last AUs (for this phase) focusing more on X-Men, would you like to read more of the X-Men from the original trilogy or the First-Class generation? (I want people's opinions!) 
> 
> See ya around! (Hopefully you haven't tired of my stories yet)

**Author's Note:**

> As always the fic will be updated every other week. 
> 
> Poster and set of wallpapers can be found in my deviantArt account (I go by Princess-Lalaith there). 
> 
> If any of you follow my other MCU-verse, Menel, consider this as the official notification that a longer version of it is in the works. Menel itself will remain as is. A series with the same name is being worked on, the first part will be called "Lokidottir" the first three or four chapters will be the original Menel expanded on (more and longer scenes, especially some detailing Skye's past), then a somewhat modified version of the original story (adapted to fit with episode 1.14 TAHITI) and then connecting that to what happens afterwards in the series.


End file.
